


Recovery

by midwinter_fox



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Self-Harm, Slow-ish burn, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 09:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18753313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwinter_fox/pseuds/midwinter_fox
Summary: Dettlaff was a shell of his former self. After two short years since his heart was torn to pieces at the hands of one he thought he could trust completely, he no longer cared what happened to him. Regis convinced him to keep going, to live for those few remaining who were close to him if not for himself. Those few were Regis and the vampires in the flock he considered his family, but a brief encounter with a woman's selfless kindness leaves him baffled and conflicted. After seeing how despicable humans could be, that he would find someone who genuinely cared about those around her seemed like an impossibility. Yet there she was, and she wanted him to heal. For once in his miserably long existence, he wanted to as well.





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on a Dettlaff kick, especially since I think he deserves a whole helluva lot more love than he got in the game. There will be quite a few chapters that could probably be read like one shots, and there will be some divergence from plot to let me take a break every now and then to just play with fillers. This is the beginning of the relationship between Dettlaff and my character Leonore. She'll be the character that's present in any other Dettlaff fics I write (except for maybe the occasional Regis/Dettlaff), so there may be some things that are referenced in those fics from this one. This isn't my first attempt at a longer fic, but it's definitely the furthest I've gotten without giving up. I'd love feedback/critiques/suggestions, so please lay it on me!! Tags will probably be updated as I write.

Dillingen was a pleasant little town that offered a peaceful change compared to Toussaint’s violent flora and knights frequently searching the wooded areas for monsters. Only two years had passed since the events that led to the death of Dettlaff’s beloved Rhenawedd, and while time does heal all wounds, those two short years had only barely begun to mend what remained of his husk of a heart. Regis had convinced him that it would be best to try to start over, though some days he wished it all could just end. When they left Toussaint, they left everything behind - even Regis hadn’t bothered to take everything in his crypt with him back to his summer home in Brugge.

This summer home was a sizable house with plenty of room for three people, though it was humble and therefore did not attract much attention. However, Regis ran is medical and cosmetic professions from the main room, so Dettlaff usually made himself very scarce. After everything that happened, he wished to say he hated humans, but it was an ever-changing world that the humans were slowly taking over. As such, it was in his best interest to try to expose himself to it and try to get accustomed to their vulgar and finicky ways.

There wasn’t much for a high vampire with no purpose in a small down like Dillingen, so at Regis’ urging, Dettlaff used his artistry as a means of passing time. While he no longer had a toyshop at his disposal, the elder man was kind enough to let him use the basement as a form of work space. It was where he could keep away from prying eyes, but still have the comfort of a home in which he could tinker and craft. When he wasn’t tending to broken toys and trinkets, he would sit on the bed in his new room on the main floor and draw the scenery outside the window. Trying to pretend to be human was, well, trying.

Some days he wished he could return to living wild and free in the forests with his lesser vampire pack, but the further north one went, the less one saw of vampires. His pack followed him, but he had to do what he could to keep them hidden and safe from the influence of mortals. They were forbidden from hunting them, but there were so many in his pack, he often had to settle disputes for territory and provide various necessities to the population in the hope they wouldn’t bring attention to themselves.

Each morning before the sun rose fully but when those with farms and stores were already tending to their work, Dettlaff walked the street silently from one end of the town to the other so as to take care of the vampires he considered his family. It wasn’t typically an all day matter, but if it took a while, he would be forced to walk back amongst throngs of people. If he wanted to avoid them, he could take the longest route along the very outskirts of the city, but as much as he wanted to stay as far from everyone as possible, he knew if he wanted to get back to Regis’ home faster, he had to grit his teeth and stomach the walk through the crowds.

It wasn’t always an unpleasant experience. Dettlaff found that if he didn’t anticipate something bad happening, often nothing would. For the most part, people minded their own business and went about their days - something he was eternally grateful for. Other days, if Regis was with him, people would stop to greet the beloved surgeon-barber before being on their way. It irked the brooding vampire, but people were kind enough about it even if it was incredibly annoying.

Regardless of these circumstances, he would sometimes slow his stride to take in the shops and vendors around him. There was a bakery that sold some of the most irresistible treats Dettlaff had the pleasure of tasting; a flower vendor brought blooms of the most vibrant colors from as far as Nazair - he could have sworn they had sold blue roses at one point, and it made him a bit nostalgic; his favorite store by far was a small pawnshop, which was where he would find broken or mistreated toys and baubles that he could take the time to restore. Though Dillingen wasn’t a very large town, it still had enough to consider it a good place to call home.

Sometimes, if Dettlaff wasn’t in a hurry to get home, he would stop by the pawnshop to take a look at the wares that were kept in the window. It was better than going in and having to deal with anybody inside, and if something caught his eye, he could easily walk in and walk out with little interaction. He was becoming well-known to the proprietor, but she was a kind elderly woman who greeted him with a smile and very little conversation each time he visited. She said little to him knowing full well he was a man of very few words, and simply processed transactions with a soft ’thank you, I hope you come again, dear.’ He enjoyed the interaction, mainly for the fact that so few humans were tolerable to be around and she was one of those few.

One such day, it had taken him the better part of the morning before he had finished tending to his underlings, and though it had been especially trying for him, he still stopped when he caught sight of a recognizable little box in the pawnshop window. It was a music box, without a doubt, and a small sign beside it labelled it was in need of repairs. That little old woman seemed to know just how to acquire his service - anything he restored was brought back to the shop for her to sell for higher profit. He glanced up and noticed she had spotted him outside, but she did little more than give him a small, wrinkled smile. Unable to resist, he stepped inside to purchase the box which was then wrapped up in a cloth for protection and placed tenderly in his hand. With a short exchange of gratitude, he departed with his newest project in hand.

Dettlaff barely made it down past to the next vendor before someone bumped into him and caused the fragile toy to fall.

—

Leonore was frantic - there were so many deliveries that day that it was like the world conspired against her to make her suffer. Her dark brunette hair was pulled back into a bun to keep it out of her eyes, but with how much she ran around, it threatened to spill free. A few strands tickled her nose, but she hadn’t the time to bother with it when there was so much to do. Normally she could get everything done before the sun reached its highest point, but noon was already upon her and she still had one last delivery to make.

A basket hung from her arm and her skirt flowed behind her as she tried her best to dash through the crowd of people. If she didn’t get the baker’s order to the café down the road, her head would be on a platter. The cookies that were packed into the basket smelled divine, but she had to fight off her hunger and deliver the order as swiftly as possible. It was just her luck that her hair had found it’s way _up_ her nose, for she couldn’t keep the sneeze at bay long enough to break past the throng. In the split moment her eyes closed and she covered her face with her arm, she collided with someone and was almost sent sprawling onto the cobblestone.

“Oh gods, I’m so terribly sorry!!” Her face was red from embarrassment, and she was lucky none of the pastries had jumped out of her basket. The man she bumped, however, had dropped whatever he had in his hand.

With no prompting and before her unfortunate victim could bend down to retrieve the item himself, she picked it up and held it out to him. She was no longer in a rush; she was already late, so there was no point in appearing rude in favor of hurrying to be scolded. Hazel eyes met a piercing blue for but a second, for the man’s gaze was so intense that she couldn’t hold it for very long without feeling self-conscious. She did notice the rest of his appearance though - dark hair with some silvery strands, black frock coat adorned with a moth brooch, and a handsomeness that screamed ‘foreigner’ - and found him to be intimidating.

“Thank you,” he answered politely, his finger just barely brushing hers when he took back the cloth-bound object that was knocked from his hand. He hadn’t apologized, but it was her fault in the first place. Flustered, she felt there was something she should do to make up for it.

The man looked uncomfortable standing there with her in his way, but she held a hand out to have him wait for just a moment. Leonore pulled a small cloth back in the basket, revealing its contents and allowing the wonderful scent to escape briefly before she picked one out and replaced the cloth.

“Here. Please, take it. It’s the least I can do for having ran into you,” she said with a bashful smile, her nose and cheeks still rosy from her minor humiliation.

Hesitantly, the man took the small pastry; a look of what almost seemed to be wonder flashed in his eyes before being replaced with a cold, but kind, indifference. He gave her a hint of a smile, though she couldn’t be sure if it was genuine or if he was just trying to be polite. The young woman didn’t think much of it though. Perhaps he was just shy.

“Thank you,” he said again, and Leonore graced him with a brighter smile.

“Think nothing of it. I hope you like it, and again, I am horribly sorry. I hope the rest of your day is a pleasant one.”

With that, she gave him a short curtsy before stepping around him to finish her delivery. There would be hell to pay when they found out one of the cookies was missing, but she would simply tell them it fell from the basket in a moment of clumsiness. It wasn’t entirely false, but if they knew she had handed it out, she’d never hear the end of it.

—

Meanwhile, as she disappeared among the rest of the crowd, Dettlaff held the cookie and watched her scurry away until he could see her no longer. His eyes shifted to the treat she had given him, and he wondered briefly if that was supposed to be normal for humans. He’d meant to apologize, but she was already handing him back the music box before he had a chance to process the thought. There was an indentation in the surface that he could feel without having to remove the cloth around it, but with it having already been broken, it wasn’t anything to fret about. The woman was kind for having apologized so profusely when really, they were both at fault. Just as she could have watched where she was going, so could he, though admittedly, she seemed to dart out as if from nowhere.

The vampire’s mind continued to linger on the small woman as he finished the walk home, taking small nibbles from the pastry so as to savor it. She was well over a foot shorter than him, though he was also tall compared to the average man. That was, perhaps, why he hadn’t seen her until she was directly in front of him. He made a mental note to watch out for her next time just in case - she was quick on her feet, and he would rather not risk running into her so forcefully again.

The treat was delicious, and he had to fight the urge to stuff the remainder of it in his mouth when he reached the door to Regis’ home. Upon entry, his companion looked up from a book laid out on a table and greeted him kindly.

“I see you found something new to work on,” Regis commented before returning to his time. “What’s that smell? You’ve been to the bakery?”

“No,” Dettlaff responded as he closed the door behind him. “A woman gave it to me after colliding with me in the marketplace.”

“That was kind of her.”

Instead of a real reply, he simply gave a grunted _’mhm’_ as he gave in to temptation and popped what remained of the cookie into his mouth. It hadn’t been very large in the first place, and he was a bit sad to finish it so quickly. Next time he would perhaps purchase a few more, given that the bakery wasn’t busy when he passed.

Before he could retreat out the back door to make his way to the cellar, he was stopped by Regis’ voice.

“Did you at the very least get her name?”

Dettlaff had to think for a moment but quickly concluded that their interaction was so brief that he hadn’t even given his own.

“No, she departed quickly.”

“Hm. A shame. It isn’t often you run into kindness like that.” For a moment he paused, waiting for a response, but when he received none he shot a look of amusement at him. “A pun, Dettlaff. It wouldn’t hurt for you to acquire a sense of humor.”

It took a moment, the both of them going silent, but eventually Dettlaff scoffed and strode out, leaving Regis to chuckle to himself as he returned to his task.


	2. Sweets

Over the next few weeks, Dettlaff continued to have run-ins with the short, nameless woman. Thankfully, they never collided so physically again, but every time she had a basket full of treats. He was so sure that he wouldn't see her again that he would neglect to ask for her name; even after being proven wrong for what had to be the tenth time, he hadn't thought to inquire after it before she was darting back into the throngs of people that took up the marketplace. Admittedly though, he'd also never indulged in so many sweets as he did when he encountered the kind young lady during her deliveries, so he didn't quite have it in him to deny her small yet generous offerings.

On one such occasion, he had been contemplating finally entering the bakery to simply purchase some treats to bring home, but alas, the simple shop was far more popular than he cared for. Every time he passed, there was always a handful of people inside - a bit frustrating since the aroma of the sweets inside always left his mouth watering. He would rather go without than have to bother with so many mortals; it was bad enough he had to make his way through an entire crowd of them every other day.

It was purely by chance that, when he paused momentarily to take in the scent of freshly baked goods, he noticed the small woman as she wormed her way out of the crowded shop with her basket in hand. For a moment, he wondered if she would take notice of him amidst the rest of the people in the street, but he needn't wonder for long when her gaze caught his and she lit up with her usual bright smile that always reached her eyes.

"Ah, good to see you again!" she called over the volume of the passersby. He'd made it apparent over the past few encounters that he was very uncomfortable being surrounded by so many people; thus, she gestured for him to follow her to a side street that was momentarily unoccupied. After having run into her so many times, he was growing fond of the brief conversations and the gifted treats, so he followed her, grateful that she was taking his discomfort into consideration. 

She had no idea, but her sweet and gentle nature and the way she treated him despite not knowing a thing about him meant a great deal. Humans were, at least to his knowledge, generally selfish and fickle beings. This woman, though - for some reason she had an aura that radiated calm and happiness no matter the outside factors. What made her the only exception that he'd found thus far? Why was she so glad to see him when others avoided his dark countenance and cold demeanor? Granted, he preferred when he was left unbothered, but that she approached him without so much as a hint of apprehension had him both perturbed and yet intrigued.

They stood together in the isolated alley, her hand digging into her basket to produce a treat for him as was now customary. It was like an unspoken deal; she would gift him sweets and he would, in return, open up to her enough to allow for small conversation. Despite this, she  _still_ hadn't simply given him her name. This time though, he finally deigned to ask.

"I've never asked your name." His hand now held an altogether different pastry compared to the usual cookies she carried. This time it was round and soft, a fine layer of sugar coating the surface of the ball of cake.

"I suppose I ought introduce myself if I'm going to be feeding you like this then. I'm Leonore." Dettlaff wondered what she meant by that, but her smile was fairly reassuring. Besides, he'd tried before to politely decline her gift only to be met with a stubbornness that far exceeded that of anyone he'd ever met. Regis' mule, Draakul, was far more agreeable in comparison.

"Dettlaff van der Eretein."

"That's a Nazairi name if I've ever heard one," Leonore commented offhandedly. "It's a pleasure to finally know it."

Her kindness would've been unsettling if it hadn't felt so genuine. Instead, it was more heartwarming, especially given he'd met no one so eager to please as her.  

Unsure of how to respond, he took a bite of the pastry she'd given him. He hadn't known what to expect, but the fluffy dough giving way to a jam center was not it. The taste was, for lack of a better word, heavenly, with the sweet sugar blending well with the raspberry that was hidden inside. To try to avoid a mess, he quickly put the rest in his mouth. It was smaller than her typical cookies and only left him wanting more.

The little brunette giggled, but tried to hide it behind her hand. When he cocked a brow at her, she pulled a kerchief from the basket and reached up to dab gently at his lip. She was very forward, and he had to stop himself from retreating a few steps when she invaded his personal space. The discomfort was evident in his eyes, but once she had removed the drop of jelly from his chin, she handed him the handkerchief so he could remove what remained on his fingers.

"I apologize, I suppose I should've warned you they were filled. Oh no, keep it. I've more at home," she added when he attempted to hand her the kerchief back. Instead and at her insistence, he tucked it into a pocket.

"Thank you. It was good. All of the treats you've gifted me have been delightful."

"I'm glad you enjoyed them! In reality, I probably shouldn't give them out so freely, but one pastry won't be missed."

Dettlaff was a bit surprised. Was she giving him sweets that weren't hers to give? As if anticipating this reaction, she snorted and shook her head.

"Don't worry, no one will notice. I'm allowed to have one per delivery, but I think you've been enjoying them far more than I would."

That did nothing to tame the utter confusion in him.

"But why?" he asked, suspicion rising in his tone though he remained collected. Her shrug left him with more questions than answers.

"I suppose I just like you. After running into you, I remember the look on your face when I gave you that first cookie and thought you looked like the kind of man who could use more kindness in your life. Consider it my 'womanly intuition' at work."

If only she knew how much the warmth of her smiles truly meant to him. Knowing her thoughts behind the gesture left him speechless, unknowing whether to trust that she did not lie as humans were wont to do, or if she was simply as bright and sweet as the grins and pastries she bestowed upon him.

"I.. Do not know what to say." At least he was honest.

"There's nothing to say. Though, after several weeks and a handful of pastries, not once have I seen you smile."

Was this true? Perhaps the shock that she was so persistently nice took precedence over the small happiness her gifts brought him. As such, he allowed his cold visage to crack, giving her the soft smile she sought from him. That it brought her such joy made his heart twist, though not unpleasantly.

"You look beautiful when you smile. I'd love to see it more often."

Truly? The admission left him feeling a bit flustered, but before his face could warm at her words, he turned away. What was she saying? What was she doing to him? Feelings he'd thought were no longer existent after the earth-shattering heartbreak he'd experienced a short two years ago were rising up to choke him. A gentle hand reached out to touch his shoulder, and he instinctively flinched away. He could practically feel her eyes burning into his back.

"Did.. Did I say something wrong?" The sadness in her voice had him conflicted. What was best? To comfort her, as she only sought to do for him? No, she did not know him, not truly. If she did, she would never have stopped when she first ran into him.

So, he did not stop when he forced himself to leave her standing forlorn in the alley. It was for her own good.


	3. Acceptance

Was it odd to fear another’s fear? Dettlaff had this question in mind as he went days, then weeks, trying to avoid Leonore. He knew she made deliveries in the marketplace, so he took great care in staying away. Rejection was something he had been expecting from her, but after she had gone out of her way to try to get him to  _smile_ of all things, he now did what he could to deter her from trying to get close to him as she had.

Nothing good could come of it, he decided. While he could understand if she had simply no longer wanted to be near him, he didn’t know what he would do if she came to fear what he was. As far as she knew, he was human, and he would do all he could to convince her to believe that. If she got too close, however, she would no doubt see him for what he was.

Humans were intolerant of those that didn’t look or act like the rest of them, and it was this that further drove Dettlaff to avoid them if he could. It was human nature, along with lying. The mortal woman had shown him nothing but kindness, but it was because of this that he feared her reaction to the knowledge of what he was. Thus far, she had shown him a side to humanity that he’d previously thought them incapable of having; he’d be damned if he would give her a chance to prove him right all along.

It wasn’t difficult avoiding a single human. Rather than venturing through the marketplace in his trek to the forest in which lay his kin, he took the side roads to reach his destination. He’d succeeded for well over a week, not having so much as caught a glimpse of her once. However, it could only go on that way for so long.

Regis was far more observant than his companion gave him credit for. Since Dettlaff returned home with a dark cloud over his head, he’d taken to carrying around what looked to be a plain white handkerchief. Sometimes he’d absently fiddle with it between his fingers, other times he’d simply grip it in his palm, but it was always done discreetly when he thought he wasn’t being watched. What was unusual to Regis was that he never actually used the small square cloth - simply held on to it like some sort of token. He’d asked about it once only to have his friend go silent and solemn. After that, he dared not toy with it again, at least, not in his companion’s presence.

At one point, Regis noticed it had a name engraved along the hem. He only managed to see the first half, ‘Leo’, but he only knew of one with such a name that carried kerchiefs. He knew Leonore to be a sweet woman; had something happened between her and the overtly emotional vampire who now sulked in his room? He’d spent two years trying to help his friend heal from Syanna’s betrayal, so he would be damned if he was going to watch as another woman caused him further heartbreak. A plan formulated in his head, one that would help him get to the bottom of the mystery behind Dettlaff’s misery. Suddenly, he found himself in need of a delivery.

—

For the first time in what felt to be an eternity, Dettlaff slept heavily. It was uncharacteristic of a vampire to do so - especially for himself since he suffered from insomnia and terrible nightmares of the past. Despite the sound of Regis moving about the house, he was able to force himself to relax and bury his head under the feather pillows to shield himself from the intruding sunlight. Was this what it was like to know true peace, or was he simply exhausted from so many sleepless nights? It wasn’t a thought on which he deigned to linger, content to forget and relish in his luckily dreamless sleep for the first time in centuries.

It wasn’t until there was a knock at his bedroom door that he stirred, though he did so begrudgingly. With a groan, he stood and stretched, then at the very least slipped on his trousers. It wouldn’t have been the first time he walked about in the nude, but the sun was shining brightly to signify it being later in the day, and he would rather not risk someone walking in to search for Regis only to catch a glimpse of his bare body. Dettlaff rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he opened the door, but when he saw who stood on the other side, he slammed it back shut. Suddenly, he wasn’t so tired.

Regis snorted at the stunned look on his friend’s face when he finally opened the door, having definitely not expected to see Leonore standing beside him. While he had asked her to come by to deliver some supplies, he had to admit that he had ulterior motives. After learning from her what had happened the day Dettlaff began brooding more than usual, he considered the possibility that perhaps there was some form of connection between them. What that connection was, he was unsure, but it was worth it to see if she could get the sullen man to come out of his shell.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t think he expected me to have company today,” Regis apologized to the small woman beside him, though there wasn’t a drop of sincerity in his tone. In fact, he was deeply amused. Leonore, on the other hand, covered her face to hide both her giggles and her blush, though she only had the one hand with which to do so - in the other was a small tin, undoubtedly a gift for the other vampire. When she finally looked back up from her cover, she had her lips pursed to contain her mirth.

“It’s um.. it’s quite alright. I don’t think  _I_ expected to see him half naked, so we’re both in a bit of a state.”

With a chuckle, Regis again knocked on the door.

“Dettlaff? Are you dressed? You know, she’s here to see  _you._ ” That was only partially a lie. She hadn’t expected to see Dettlaff at all, but when she was told that he was just in the other room, she seemed to become suddenly excited. It wasn’t like Regis to use such secretive methods to learn what truly bothered his dear friend, but it was obvious he would get no answers from simply asking. Thus, he thought perhaps he could get his answers from the only human to try getting close to him since the loss of his Rhenawedd.

There was a rustling of fabric from the other side of the door, and after a few moments it opened to reveal Dettlaff in a more proper state of dress. Really, he only threw on his blouse from the night before and ran a comb through his unkempt curls, but he was at least more appropriate for company. His coat and boots remained abandoned on the floor, but just before finally opening the door, he remembered the kerchief on his nightstand. It was then tucked into the nightstand drawer so Leonore wouldn’t see he still kept it.

Dettlaff was still a bit too flustered to say anything, so Regis did the talking.

“There you are. I apologize for the surprise, but Leonore came to deliver some ingredients and whatnot, so I thought perhaps you might like to catch up.” Before Dettlaff could reply, he was interrupted. “Ah, but now I’ve much to put away, so I’ll leave you two to chat.”

With that, Regis turned and walked away, a light grin on his face as he set off to tend to his own matters. It was, admittedly, the first time he’d sought to cut his own dialogue short in favor of allowing Dettlaff a chance to speak for himself.

Dumbstruck, Dettlaff stood in the doorway, not sure exactly what to say or do. The last time he spoke with her, he’d abruptly pushed her away and left without explanation. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she was looking for answers. Leonore’s light laughter brought him out of his tumultuous train of thought, and when he finally looked at her she burst into giggles.

“What?” He asked almost incredulously. She was so bubbly it was starting to become concerning.

Without saying anything, she reached up to tuck a stray bit of hair back behind his ear. He hadn’t noticed it was out of place, though he shouldn’t be surprised what with his hair being difficult to tame without pomade right after he woke. Actually, what surprised him more was that he didn’t feel so uneasy in her presence like he did when they first met. It was as though his apprehension was completely dissolved even though their last conversation had ended with him resolved to stay away from her.

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t appreciate it when I laugh like that, but I really couldn’t help it. Your hair is so much curlier than it looks when you’re properly put together.”

He knew this, and self-consciously smoothed any other stray hair back into its usual place. It was wrong of her to think he disliked her laugh though. Granted, when it was directed  _at him,_ he didn’t appreciate it much, but for some reason he’d missed hearing her giggles. Odd as it was, Dettlaff forced himself to delete the thought from his mind. He was supposed to push her away, but here she was in the very house in which he made his home.

“It is.. unruly after waking. I apologize, I was not made aware that you would be here.” What did it matter whether she approved of his hair of all things? Why was she here in the first place, and why did he  _care_?

Her soft smile alleviated some of his fears - she didn’t seem to care how disheveled he looked at least.

“Then I should be the one to apologize. I can leave to let you sleep if you like, but I have something I wished to give you.”

“That will not be necessary.” _No_ , no more gifts, no more of her kindness. She was persistent if she truly waited all this time to find him and give him another of her presents, but he couldn’t accept it this time - not if he wanted to get rid of her. However, the longer he stayed away, the more he realized that perhaps he didn’t truly wish to be rid of her. “I cannot accept anything more from you.”

A silence fell between them, a bit of awkwardness rising as they both fought to find something,  _anything,_ to say. Rather than try to fill the silence, Leonore held up the tin she’d been holding, only just now bringing it to his attention. As much as he wanted to decline, she was very insistent about him taking it. If she was upset with him, she did a fantastic job of hiding it. If anything, she seemed dejected, but not angry like he'd been expecting.

The tin itself was nothing remarkable save for a ribbon she’d tied around it to ensure it stayed closed. She did not move, watching him expectantly. Everything in his mind was telling him to turn her down, return the gift to her, and leave if she refused to do so herself. Logic, however, lost out to the heavy thumping in his chest that urged him to take it, take her, and revel in the kindness that she sought so eagerly to bestow upon him.

Tentatively, he undid the bow that held the ribbon together and allowed it to fall away into his hand. It was gripped tightly between his fingers as he removed the lid from the tin, an intoxicating aroma filling his nostrils when the contents were revealed. Small, heart-shaped cookies lay inside, lightly frosted and freshly baked. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Leonore took the moment from him.

“I know I made you uncomfortable the other day. I want to apologize, and I hope that this helps you to feel better. Regis told me you’ve been under the weather, and it pains me to know that I may be to blame for it. So please, if my being so forward upset you when last we spoke, know that it won’t happen again. I miss your company, and I’d love nothing more than to be able to converse with you again.”

Dettlaff’s heart was thundering in his ears so loudly he was sure even she could hear it. What was she doing to him? Why was his body reacting so strongly to her words? Frozen, he stood and stared as though she’d suddenly revealed herself to be some grotesque monster. He didn’t know what to do or say, but it seemed she took his silence as dismissal. The look of resigned sadness that crossed her fair face made the incessant beating of his heart stop so suddenly he thought he may very well have just died for a moment. Leonore turned away, her movements slow and solemn, but he finally reached out to stop her with a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

Hope seemed to shine in her eyes when she turned back, but he still could not find the proper words to convey both his gratitude and his conviction. Dare he allow her back into his life, just like that? Would he be so easily moved by her nice gestures as to let her get _too_ close? Again, his heart won over his mind as he reflexively pulled her close. So long had he gone without such tender affection that now, he craved it like it would sustain him. When her arms wrapped about him in kind, his eyes closed as he let himself relish in the soft embrace.

—

Their embrace lasted for a while, though neither Dettlaff nor the small woman in his arms noticed until they heard Regis clearing his throat.

“I truly do hate to interrupt such a tender moment, but I wanted to make you aware that I’m expecting someone to be by for an appointment soon, and I know you’ve a fairly strong aversion to being present for such matters.” His words were directed to Dettlaff who, though mildly irritated knowing that all of this was in no small way a result of Regis’ plotting, was grateful of the warning.

Rather than voice his gratitude, he removed himself from Leonore’s arms to take her by the hand and guide her away. A knowing look passed between the two vampires, an unspoken promise that they  _would_ be exchanging words later.

Dettlaff did not bother to finish dressing before leading the young woman out the back door of Regis’ home. The herb garden outside would provide a better, more peaceful setting in which he could give Leonore the conversation she so desired. Her need for answers was palpable even to him. She didn’t waste any time in voicing her concerns.

“Dettlaff..? May I ask what it was that I said or did that upset you so greatly the last time we spoke? I’d like to know what it was so I won’t repeat my past mistakes.”

If only she knew that it was no  _mistake._ In fact, his response was solely his attempt to protect both of them from each other. However, he was unsure of how he could convey as much without revealing to her his inhuman nature. Thus, another revelation came to the forefront of his mind: if he was to keep her close, she  _had_ to know eventually, regardless of how apprehensive he was of her reaction.

“It.. It was no mistake on your part. The blame is entirely mine.” He watched the confusion find a place in her expression, but he struggled to find the proper words for her. “I was not upset, merely.." he paused to find the proper word, ".. conflicted. I’ve not allowed someone so close to me in a number of years, so forgive me for being overly cautious.”

His words were vague only for the fact that anxiety started to well up in him at the prospect of what he was about to say, what he was about to reveal. He had grown far more fond of this woman than he’d intended, especially given she was a mortal - a being which he refused to trust for their natural flaws. Nothing could prepare him for this moment. It had been so much easier with Rhena; she had known what he was without his having to reveal anything to her.

Leonore watched him curiously as he took a moment to pace beside the beggartick bushes that grew in a row beside a bench alongside the house, his thoughts proving difficult to collect when all he wanted was to simply let it all out. Instead, he fought to find a way to speak without overwhelming her.

“Whatever it is, I promise I’ll gauge my reaction. I can’t swear that it will be a  _good_ reaction, but I will do what I can to spare your feelings.” Her words were a surprisingly great reassurance. She was honest with him, almost brutally so. It reminded him of Regis’ words - that not all humans were dishonest and untrustworthy like Syanna had been. While still struggling to trust her, it was far easier to do so when she spoke candidly.

“I am not human.”

That was the first step. Rather than revealing himself as what he truly was - a vampire - he would see how she responded to the more vague answer. A bit of relief washed over him when he wasn’t met with the ever common racist beliefs that were prominent in human culture.

“Alright..? Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised. You don’t act human at least. What are you then? Your ears aren’t pointed, and you’re definitely no dwarf or halfling.” Her words were purely curious, but it did nothing to alleviate his anxiety. Rather than further try to be purposefully vague, a tiring and senseless endeavor for him to say in the least, he came right out and said it.

When the words left his lips, a wave of different emotions crossed Leonore’s features. There was confusion, made apparent by her furrowing brow, but then something akin to fear. Before his heart had a chance to break, she bombarded him with questions.

“A..  _vampire??_  But I thought they were myths? Devilishly handsome creatures of the night who hunted virgins and feared daylight? Though I daresay the handsome part is in no way inaccurate, you stand here in the sun without a care. So what is truly fact and what is myth?? I’m sorry, I’m incredibly confused.”

Well, he knew that without her having to say as much, but now he was simply trying to keep up with her flurry of questions, only barely catching her confession as it flew past her lips. He had to admit though, this was a far better reaction than what he feared he would get initially.

“Some vampires do not care for sunlight, but I am what mortals call a 'higher’ vampire. The lessers are much weaker than beings such as myself.”

“So what of silver? Garlic? Holy water??”

“ _Hm_.. Most are lies or misconceptions, some of which were spread by Regis–”

“Wait, you’re telling me  _Regis_ is one too??” she interrupted, but Dettlaff patiently nodded. Answering questions was better than alleviating fears.

“Yes, he is.”

“ _Amazing!_ ”

For a moment, he thought he misheard her. Did she truly just tell him that the presence of vampires, most commonly referred to as monsters, in the otherwise quiet and safe little town was  _amazing_?

“What..?”

“Amazing, simply and truly amazing! Here I am afraid I’d done something horribly wrong but you, you were trying to protect me, weren’t you?”

Ah, so she saw right through him, he thought. Leonore was only partially correct, but she still seemed to catch on quickly.

“Yes,” he admitted, to which he was suddenly met with a grin. Rather than him overwhelming her, she seemed to be doing so to him.

“I don’t care who or what you are, Dettlaff. You’ve only ever been kind to me, if not aloof. I’ll keep your nature to myself, but please, don’t worry about me. If you meant me any harm, you could’ve easily hurt me long ago. I trust you.”

The tin in which laid her gift to him was set aside on the bench amongst the flowering beggartick plants, though only so he wouldn’t drop it when he grabbed and pulled Leonore to him in a crushing embrace. The gasp that left her made him release her for a moment, afraid he may have accidentally hurt her. His fear was immediately relieved when she threw her arms about him. She was simply surprised, but she wouldn’t allow him to let go of her so easily now.

There was silence between them. She was so short compared to him that he had to stoop slightly to hold her like he so wished, but the feel of her arms about his shoulders and her face buried in his neck erased any feelings of discomfort. Instead, he took in her scent as his nose nestled against her soft brown hair, the smell of rose, sugar, and lavender pervading his senses and bringing about a comfort in him that he’d been seeking for years. Tender emotions erupted in his chest, the most prominent of them being one he hadn’t felt since confessing it to his Rhena so long ago. This time, he kept it to himself, not willing to ruin this moment with hasty words. He had known Leonore for a little over a few months now, longer than he’d known Rhena before he fell for her, but it wasn’t something he was so willing to confess this time, not after the devastating heartbreak he’d experienced from the one person he’d cherished and adored more than anyone in his life.

No, this time he remained quiet, even when he felt Leonore press her soft lips to the tender skin of his neck. It sparked a desire in him, but all of these emotions he buried under his simple need to be held, so starved for affection was he after so long without it. Regret filled him when he finally released her, but she didn’t seem ready to part with him yet neither.

“Please don’t let go.. I’ve missed you terribly, and I don’t want you to leave yet.”

Without having to say a word, he removed her arms from him only to sit on the bench and bring her close again. She seated herself on his lap before consuming him in another hug, one he graciously accepted. They remained like this for a while, this time thankfully uninterrupted. When she pulled her face from his shoulder to kiss him tenderly, he accepted that too. It was a sweet, gentle kiss that he allowed her to lead, happiness settling in his heart and his stomach, partially filling a hole that had been dug only two short years ago.

Leonore’s acceptance gave Dettlaff the tools he needed to finally let himself be happy again.


	4. Conflicted

Their kiss lasted for but a brief moment, but it felt like a sweet eternity passed between them. It wasn’t heated or wanting; instead, it left them with a faint tingling in their lips, the kind that left one in a daze. So soft was it that it could be seen as platonic. By the time they parted, a deep blush erupted across Leonore’s cheeks, forcing her to look down and away in sudden embarrassment.

“I’m.. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Dettlaff couldn’t find the words to reassure her, so he instead tilted her chin gently so as to have her look at him once more. Her eyes reminded him of the Toussaintois forests in autumn - the deep green of her iris surrounded a circle of brilliant copper that enclosed the pupil. It was almost impossible to detect without him being so close to her, but now, with her in such intimate proximity, he was silently going over all of the tiny details that made him grow ever fonder. The redness of her face was endearing, and he only made it deepen further when he pressed another soft kiss, this time to her brow. It was a reassuring gesture, one that made apparent that he was in no way upset by her earlier advance.

The silence between them grew, but it wasn’t unpleasant, especially not with how Leonore smiled at him now. There was a painful clenching in Dettlaff’s heart, one that reminded him that this was, in every way, impossible. Sadness began creeping up in him, only betrayed by the wistfulness in his eyes as he released her from their embrace. She removed herself from his lap only to sit beside him, the tin of heart-shaped cookies now in her hand to make room for her.

If she picked up on the regret in his gaze, she did not make it known. Rather, she reopened the tin to remove a pastry and hand it to him. With a soft ’ _thanks_ ’ he took it and broke it in half, offering a piece to the woman who already held a portion of his heart. They ate the sweets in the quiet of the herb garden, no words shared in favor of savoring each other’s company. Even when Leonore’s head rested against his shoulder, he kept silent and relished in the tenderness of their moment - a tenderness that he’d have to give up if he was going to protect himself from what he perceived to be inevitable heartbreak.

Time was not on their side regardless of how he did not want this peaceful moment to end. All too soon, Leonore stood and kindly excused herself, but only because she still had deliveries to tend to and not enough time in the day to complete them. Dettlaff stood to walk her to the door - after all, it was only polite.

In the foyer, Regis was tending to the broken arm of a child, worried albeit agitated parents standing off to the side to observe. The room may as well have been empty for Leonore and her vampiric companion. Quietly, they walked to the door, ignoring the looks of the mortals. When Dettlaff opened the door for her, she stopped just short to hug him one last time. Though he was electing to ignore the other occupants of the room, he was still hesitant to return the gesture, opting to instead tentatively yet amicably pat her shoulder. He couldn’t help but watch her depart for a few moments, and when he finally closed the door, he inwardly sighed. The look on his face was forlorn, but Regis didn’t need to see it to know how his blood-kin felt.

Dettlaff retreated to his room with the half-empty tin in hand, and when the door clicked shut, Regis finished up his work and instructed the parents on the care of their child’s injury. By the time they finally left, Regis set off to find his dearest friend.

—

The knock on the bedroom door wasn’t answered immediately, and for a moment, Regis wondered if maybe it would be best to simply leave Dettlaff alone for now. Just as he turned away, the door opened slowly, but upon seeing that Regis was the only one that stood there, it opened fully.

“It’s just me this time,” Regis said with a half smile. He couldn’t blame Dettlaff for being a little more cautious this time around.

Dettlaff stood aside to let his friend enter then sat on the edge of the bed. The plain white handkerchief was once again in his hand, one of his claws tenderly tracing Leonore’s name stitched along the hem with a pale blue thread. The sight was a depressing one, especially since Regis could feel  _everything._  The aching in his chest and stomach, the racing of his mind, the plethora of conflicting emotions that threatened to break the resolve that was so carefully built through years of hardship - all of it was clear as day through the bond they shared. It was almost as if they could share each other’s every thought.

“You know, my friend, I’m here for you - irrevocably so. I know you’re in immense pain, so if there is anything I can do help you sort through those tumultuous thoughts of yours, please know I would do so without hesitation.” Regis was always long-winded, a direct result of having so much knowledge and so little to do with it, but it was something that Dettlaff had come to appreciate, even if he only ever said very little.

“Thank you. I.. I’ve much to think about.” The brooding man’s eyes did not leave the simple square of cotton. His thoughts were attempting to take him places he dared not entertain.

Rather than try to press his friend for details, Regis sat on the bed and laid a comforting hand on Dettlaff’s shoulder. He seemed to lean into the other’s touch until he was all but laying against him. Regis moved his hand to wrap an arm about his shoulders; he knew that, in time, Dettlaff would open up to him, even if he had to be consoled like this for hours.

—

“How do you feel?” the gray-haired vampire asked, having not moved from his spot for a while now. He’d no notion of how much time had passed, but the sun was getting low in the sky outside the window, so he could only assume it had been at least an hour.

The question was either stupid or asked for Dettlaff’s own benefit. Of course it was obvious how he felt, both through their blood bond and the emotion being etched clearly on his face. Regardless, it was answered in a low, almost pained voice.

“Why.. Why did you bring her here?”

“Well, I knew there was something wrong, and since you refused to tell me who or what could be the source of your discomfort, I saw fit to try to find the answers myself. I had seen a portion of the name on that kerchief and drew a conclusion after some careful thought. I apologize if all I did was cause you more pain - I sought to help, nothing more.”

What Regis didn’t know and Dettlaff couldn’t bring himself to admit was that it  _did_ help, though not in the way that was probably intended.

“You were not wrong in thinking she was the source,” Dettlaff mumbled, fighting his sudden desire to say her name. “She is..  _Hmh.._  I cannot find the words for it. Our meeting was brief, unintentional. I tried keeping distant, but she seeks to get..  _close._ ”

How close, he was unsure, but if their kiss was any indication, it was much closer than he felt comfortable with being. Rhenawedd -  _Syanna_ , he had to remind himself - had killed the desire in him to love, no matter how strong the desire was. He had no notion of just how desperately he craved the affection he once had until  _that woman_ collided with him in the marketplace. While unintentional, he saw now that it wasn’t unwanted, but  _what_ he wanted was something he dared not reach for.

“Dettlaff,” Regis sighed, “your fears are not unfounded. You went through a terrible ordeal - one I myself would be hard-pressed to heal from, even after having regenerated from being melted into little more than a smear. As your friend, however, I would suggest that perhaps it isn’t an entirely  _bad_ thing to allow yourself a companion that isn’t myself or your pack. Leonore has a kind heart and a sweet disposition, something you lack in your life. Were I in your stead, I think I’d allow her the chance to get close, though only as close as comfort would allow. Perhaps if you tried speaking with her about your insecurities, she would be willing to understand.”

“She knows what we are.”

“ _Oh?_ ” Suddenly, there was a newfound curiosity in Regis’ voice, though he tempered it so as not to overwhelm his friend with questions. “I’m assuming she took it well considering your embrace before she departed,” and the fact that she did not scream or flee, he thought.

“I suppose,” hummed the other in response. Was it truly such a good reaction though? After all, she saw vampires as little more than fairytales, a horrible misconception in his mind. She described vampires the way one would recall a roguish prince, and that was something he was  _not._  “She is deluded by fiction. Vampires to her are mysterious and alluring, not the monsters they truly can be.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Is it not?”

“Perhaps you can educate her. After all, you had the courage to reveal your true nature to her, so the only logical course of action is to ensure she knows what it means.”

“And if she fears me?” The thought left a sour taste in the back of Dettlaff’s throat.

“It’s possible, but another possibility is that she won’t. Would you rather allow yourself to wallow in the potentially bad prospects that may never come, or take the risk in the hope - an entirely plausible one - that she’ll only further accept you for who you are? After all, you know firsthand that not all humans fear that which is so unlike them.”

It was true, Dettlaff had to admit, but the apprehension in his gut wouldn’t allow for him to be swayed so easily.

“I.. I do not know..” The unease was apparent in his voice, but Regis simply nodded in understanding.

“Take your time. It isn’t something that needs resolving now. In fact, I see no harm in allowing yourself some time to adjust to this newfound relationship. Maybe spending more time in her presence and learning about her will help ease the doubts that are holding you down. An outing might do you some good.” When Dettlaff looked at him with incredulity, he shrugged. “Fresh air and the company of friends can do wonders for a troubled soul. I would know, after all. You’ve heard the stories I’ve had to tell. Tomorrow I’ve a need to go into town and browse the apothecary for some additional supplies. I neglected to ensure I got everything I needed through Leonore, but now it seems it will give us the opportunity to get you out and about.” Dettlaff didn’t have a chance to object before Regis gave him a friendly pat to the shoulder and stood from the bed.

“I’ll give you some time to think on it. In the meantime, I would try to push the more worrisome thoughts aside for now. Let fate do its bidding - perhaps the topic of vampiric nature will come up naturally so you don’t have to look for a way to bring it up yourself.”

“Regis, wait.” Dettlaff stood just as Regis’ hand reached for the doorknob, giving the graying vampire pause. There was a moment of silence as he sought to find the best way to express his gratitude, but he didn’t have a way with words like Regis did.

“Thank you. Truly, I.. I could not ask for a better friend.” He was gifted with a warm smile in response.

“I feel much the same way, my friend.” With that, Regis left to allow him time to think. It would be a while before Dettlaff left his room again, so lost he was in both what was to come and how it felt to be close to someone again.


	5. Outing

The next day came far quicker than Dettlaff had hoped. He was still trying to sort through the maelstrom of emotions raging through him, his night sleepless thanks to worry and doubt. At least he had ample time to make himself presentable unlike the previous day, a small reassurance for some reason. Why he cared about his appearance was a mystery to him, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t have something to do with Leonore.

Not even Rhena had been able to convince him to leave the comforts of home to subject himself to humanity, though in all honesty, she never truly tried. Her being the leader of a group of bandits ensured that she wasn’t welcome among polite company save for the nights of drunken revelry in nearby taverns - if one could even call that ‘polite.’ The memories were still vivid in his mind of the nights he spent with his former lover, but he was finally becoming numb to this pain now. Nostalgia was all he felt - for a simpler time when he could remain ignorant to Syanna’s ulterior motives and blissful in unrequited love. Though, she never did tell him if her love for him was false, but her hesitation to speak plainly was the only conclusion he needed before exacting vengeance for his shattered heart.

Bitterness began forcing its way toward the forefront of his mind despite the fact that those days were in the past and he now had the chance to start anew. Two years wasn’t long enough to heal the wounds Syanna left in him, but admittedly, after meeting Leonore, the pain wasn’t so prominent any more. This fact lit a small spark of hope in him, allowing him to shove his bitterness back into the dark recesses where it belonged.

Dressed and outwardly prepared for the inevitable day out (for Regis was stubborn and would see to it Dettlaff saw things his way), he tucked Leonore’s handkerchief into the breast pocket of his frock coat before exiting his room. He kept it with him everywhere now, almost as a sort of charm. After all, there were many a tale in which fair maidens gifted their knights in shining armor a kerchief as a token of their affection. He allowed himself this small delusion, hoping it proved that her affection was real and not a fabrication of his lovelorn mind like it had been with Syanna.

Regis already stood by the front door securing his trademark satchel over his shoulder before turning to see Dettlaff approaching.

“Ah, good to see you’re ready. I know there are other things you’d rather be doing, but it pleases me to know you’re willing to make a change for yourself.”

“Have I a choice?”

“I cannot force you to do something you don’t wish to do, though I do think seeing more of Leonore will only cause more good than harm. You should seek her out, see if she’s available to join you today.”

“If she is not?” Regis rolled his eyes at Dettlaff’s ever-present pessimism.

“Then ask when she  _is_ available. Really, it isn’t difficult, especially not when she’s already fond of you. I doubt she’ll say no to a day with you.”

Dettlaff looked like he wanted to object, but he kept his mouth shut. Regis’ positivity was having an effect on him, but he could only hope it wasn’t in vain. Without anything else to say, the two set out, one optimistic vampire leading his negative friend.

—

The marketplace wasn’t very busy, though that was due in part to the weather beginning to turn. There were only a few clouds out, but the breeze was cold with the promise of rain on the horizon. Fall was approaching, making Dettlaff wonder if they would stay in Brugge for much longer or if Regis would depart until the weather warmed again. Inwardly, he hoped they would at least stay long enough for him to determine whether having Leonore in his life would be worthwhile.

As the two approached their destination, Regis went on his way to the aforementioned apothecary, leaving Dettlaff to either follow or seek out the source of his persistent worries. In reality, he did not have to search - just as he pondered where he might even find her, she departed a shop with her basket in hand, unaware that she was being observed. The vampire contemplated if he should interrupt her day, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Regis’ words rang through his head, leaving him to question whether she truly was fond enough of him to want to devote an entire day out of her short life to him. His feet didn’t want to move until she disappeared into a pawnshop - the very one from which he acquired various items in disrepair to restore in his makeshift workshop in his friend’s cellar. Now that he seemed to have a reason to approach her, he finally moved, walking to the dilapidated store in which she entered.

The window at the front of the store allowed for passersby to glance at the wonders within, but Dettlaff paused only to determine whether Leonore was busy or not. She was speaking with the proprietor, a kind elderly woman, but he dared not eavesdrop. Instead, he took a breath to calm his suddenly frazzled nerves, then walked inside. A small bell sounded to announce his arrival, making both ladies turn to see who entered. They looked delighted to see him, a response that left Dettlaff feeling a bit bemused.

“Dettlaff! Fancy seeing you here!” Leonore seemed genuinely surprised, and he wondered why that would be. The elder she had just been speaking with simply gave him a wrinkled smile when the young woman approached and threw her arms about him, an unexpected gesture that left him unsure of how to respond. Reflexively, he returned her embrace - he’d been wanting to hold her again after the time they spent in the garden, but it was a desire that was drowned out by everything else he felt that conflicted with it. All too soon, she parted from him, but not before giving him a peck to the cheek. Her displays of affection left him flustered, but the only thing betraying it was a tinge of pink that passed only momentarily across his complexion. It was unsettling for him, especially in the presence of another, yet no one but him seemed to mind.

“I’ve a number of trinkets in need of fixing if that’s what you’re here for,” the old woman spoke before making her way to a shelf on which she kept items in ill repair. There were all manner of things from books and toys to more complex gadgets.

“Thank you,” Dettlaff replied politely, but he hadn’t a chance to actually glance at the wares before Leonore voiced her curiosity.

“You fix things?” The nod she received in response was met with only more questions. “What do you specialize in?”

“Toys, mostly.” He was beginning to feel overwhelmed considering he hadn’t stopped by to be interrogated, but he kept his unease hidden for the time being. “I’ve restored books and music boxes in the past.”

“The man’s got talent in his fingertips,” the elderly woman chimed in, a suggestive look in her aged eyes. “You’re lucky to have a man with such  _talent_.”

For a moment, Dettlaff wondered what she meant, but Leonore looked like she was about panic with how red her face got and how quick she was to reply.

“Oh, no no! He’s simply a friend. There’s nothing like  _that_  going on between us.” Before he had the chance to try to decipher what they meant, the elder chuckled.

“Whatever you say, dear. The eyes don’t lie.”

A soft sound of frustration left Leonore’s lips before she turned to Dettlaff, confusion apparent in his gaze.

“I’m sorry, don’t mind her,” she said as the woman to whom she referred went about tending to her shop. “She’s kind, but a bit nosy. I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Clearly she knew something he did not - why would he be uncomfortable? Sure, they were talking about him when he was there in front of them, but her words didn’t  _seem_ unkind. Sensing his growing confusion as well as his ignorance, she decided to change the subject.

“Look, I’ve only a few more deliveries to make, but if you’d like, I can come find you once I’m done?”

“I would like that,” he replied automatically. It was as though she knew why he was there in the first place, though he knew it was only coincidental.

“So would I,” she smiled, completely dissolving any unease he had felt previously.

Before she departed, she took her basket from a counter nearby and removed the cloth laid across the top. The familiar smell of sugar filled the room, reminding Dettlaff that he hadn’t eaten since the cookies she had brought him. She placed a square of chocolate in his hand which he then thanked her for and eagerly popped into his mouth. The fudge melted on his tongue, leaving him hungrier than he was before she gifted it to him.

He watched her leave, giving him a small wave, and almost wished he’d simply followed suit, but he would leave her be to finish her duties for the day. Without the young woman there to distract him, he turned his attention to the shelf of broken trinkets. A torn stuffed bear and a few books with missing covers and compromised bindings caught his eye, and so he took them and paid the discounted price for them. The books were tied together in a stack before he tucked them under his arm. The bear in hand, he departed to leave his findings at home then find someplace where he could meet Leonore.

—

It took just a few minutes for him to drop off the broken objects he sought to repair then return to town, but in that short time, Leonore had finished her deliveries and sought him out on the path. It seemed she was heading to Regis’ first to find him, but she only made it halfway there when she spotted Dettlaff walking toward her. The smile on her face was contagious, for he found himself returning it, though not as brightly as hers.

“It’s a good thing I had less to do today. Normally I’m running around until well past noon. I’m glad to have run into you when I did.” Her kind words served to bring about almost a hint of excitement in him at the prospect of spending time with her. Regis was right, perhaps this was what he needed. The inexplicable happiness he felt being around Leonore was unlike any other kinds of joy.

“Where shall we go?” he asked, not entirely sure what one did during an outing like this. He’d never done this before, so he hoped that she could be his guide.

“Well, I’d say judging by how quickly you ate that chocolate earlier that maybe a trip to the tavern would do us some good?”

Ah, so she noticed that, he thought. Was it truly so obvious that he was hungry? Though he felt a bit embarrassed that he’d displayed as much so blatantly, her soft laugh reassured him that she didn’t mind.

The basket she normally carried was no longer in her hand, having been left with her last delivery, so she was free to take his arm, her hand caressing his bicep. He welcomed the gesture - almost relished in it. All of his worries were abandoned in favor of taking his friend’s advice and letting fate do with them what it may.

—

Anxiety was beginning to get the best of Dettlaff as they meandered to the local tavern, but only because he did not desire to be around many people when all he wanted was to be around Leonore. Luckily, the tavern only had a small handful of patrons, allowing them to claim a spot away from prying eyes. He was grateful for it, made evident when he gave a heavy sigh once they took a seat. They sat across from each other, allowing her to see the insecurity in his eyes.

“You know, we don’t have to be here if you’d rather not. I merely suggested it because of the food.”

He shook his head. “It is fine. I am not accustomed to being around many people at once.”

“I understand. To be fair, people can be right awful when they want to be, but I found that if I’m nice to them first, they’re a lot nicer in return.”

To Dettlaff, that sounded exhausting, but also, why go out of his way to be kind to those who judge him before he can open his mouth to speak? Leonore was small, sweet, and lovely - of course people would be receptive to her kindness. He came to terms with the fact long ago that he’d never be accepted by neither humans nor his own kind, and in all honesty, he preferred it if people didn’t approach him.

“Dettlaff..?” Her soft voice shook him from his thoughts, making him realize he’d been staring at her quite intensely. “You look almost angry. Did I say something wrong?”

“No, you could never. I was simply lost in thought.”

She blushed and smiled before looking down at her hands bashfully. What had he said to make her respond in such a manner? He’d say it again until he was devoid of breath if it meant he could watch her like this. The emotion he felt in that moment compelled him to take her hand, a daring act in his mind considering he was still so very unsure if she would be willing to accept him when she knew fully what he was - what he’d done. For now, he did what he could to push away the thought in favor of basking in the moment. He even went so far as to allow her the chance to better examine the claws that tipped each of his fingers. This was the first time she was able to see them, but she treated it like a child opening a present.

“ _My_ , what big claws you have, Dettlaff,” she grinned, her fingers lacing together with his. For some reason, the act made him want to pull her closer - she was too far away being seated across from him, though realistically, only two feet separated them. He didn’t know what to say in response to her exclamation about his claws though; he wasn’t used to the attention she was giving him in general.

A barmaid interrupted their moment to see if they wanted drinks or food, reminding both of them why they were actually there. Leonore looked to him and smiled, her fingers still entwined with his, giving him the chance to answer first. He settled for ale and lamb, to which she responded that she would like the same. When the barmaid left, he wondered if he should release her hand. However, though his grip on her was slack, she made no move to release him herself. As such, he held on, the claw on his thumb taking to tracing shapes lightly into her hand.

“The old woman was right about one thing at the very least.” She broke the silence between them, her eyes on his hand that still held hers.

“What is that?”

“That the eyes don’t lie. You don’t look happy, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe I had some part to play in it..?”

She was observant; he was still feeling apprehensive though he was trying to take Regis’ advice. Rather than pull his hand away, he gave hers a soft squeeze, though neither of them knew if it was to comfort him or her.

“You’ve made me happy as of late. My unease is no fault of your own.”

“Then do you mind if I ask what has you so troubled? I dearly miss your smile.” As though her words had the magic to compel him, he did give her a soft smile, one that he genuinely felt when he was with her.

“It.. I do not wish to spoil our moment together.”

“So long as you’re holding my hand, I daresay nothing can spoil it.”

Was she.. flirting with him? The thought had him biting the inside of his cheek, so tempted was he to just embrace her in response to her sweet affection.

“ _Leonore.._ ” he spoke her name like it was a soft prayer, “please, I wish to enjoy this time with you. We may speak in depth of what troubles me, but for now, can we not take solace in each other’s company?”

“We can, but don’t let those feelings fester. It will only serve to hurt you the longer you put it off.”

 _'I want to hold and kiss you, take you into my arms and claim you as my own, but my own thoughts betray my heart.’_ Those words were on the tip of his tongue, so strongly were the emotions warring within him. Her hand was brought to his lips instead, a soft kiss pressed to one of her fingers.

“I will tell you all,” and he would, “but not at this moment.” Hiding the details behind his truth felt too much like lying to her, and he felt she deserved better than that.

As if on cue, the barmaid returned with food and drink, prompting them to finally break their hold on each other’s hand. They thanked her in unison and ate in comfortable silence, though trepidation gripped both of them in anticipation of the conversation they would have later.


	6. Truth

“Dettlaff?”

“Mmh?”

“Care to talk about what’s been bothering you now?”

Dettlaff was lazily running his thumb across Leonore’s hand again as she used the other to finish her ale. He was content waiting for her to finish her food, as he’d been quick to devour the plate of lamb as soon as it was set before them. Now she was finally finished, and it seemed she was still determined to find out what had him so upset earlier. However, he was still reluctant to do so. As such, a deep frown found its way to his face; after all, he did say he would tell her everything.

“ _Hmn.._ ” All he wanted to do was sit there peacefully and let himself be fooled into a mindless existence in which he  _didn’t_ have to explain what  ** _monsters_**  vampires truly were. “Alright, but not here.”

When he stood from the table, Leonore followed suit. Without needing to ask or be asked, she wound her arm around his again and pressed herself close to his side. There was something about the innocence behind the gentle affection they’d bestowed on each other that built both courage and fear inside him. On the one hand, he felt close enough to her to trust her in some ways, but on the other, he greatly feared any poor reaction that could cause him to lose her entirely. Either way, he was damned, for if he reneged on his promise to speak with her in truth, then how could she come to trust him? For once, he understood one of the purposes of lying, but he dared not do so. He had been lied to, thus he also understood the immense hurt it caused, no matter the reasoning behind the lie.

A wave of insecurity hit Dettlaff suddenly, but the woman’s touch on his arm was what kept him from drowning. He paid the barmaid for their food and drink - despite Leonore’s protest to pay for her own - and left to find a better, more private place to talk.

As soon as the two stepped outside of the tavern, a cold breeze blew past, ruffling Leonore’s skirt and Dettlaff’s coat. She was suddenly very grateful to be so close to him, for an involuntary shiver ran through her. With her pressed to him, he could feel her shudder almost violently, so he pulled from her arm and made quick work of undoing the buckles clasping his coat together. Before she could decline, the heavy leather was draped over her shoulders then fastened again at the top buckle to prevent it from falling. Compared to his tall frame, much taller than the average man at least, she was almost tiny in stature. The top of her head only reached his shoulders if she stood on her toes; thus, the end of the coat was on the ground when she wore it. She noticed this and gathered it up in one of her arms to prevent it from getting dirty then beamed up at him. Her short frame made her look like a child in his coat, but the sight of it was endearing nonetheless. Shielded from the wind, she returned to his side. His superb hearing allowed him to hear the quiet intake of her breath as she took in the scent of him from his clothing, and now all he wanted was to bury his face in her hair and neck to relish in her own sweet smell too.

Together they walked with idle, pointless conversation between them. Though the weather was only getting worse, they strolled along slowly until something caught Leonore’s eye.

“Just a moment, Dettlaff. Come look!”

His eyes followed her retreating form as she suddenly released him and jogged forward, but it only took him a few strides to catch up with her short legs. In reality, she was perhaps just shy of average height for a human woman (with curves to match), but compared to him she may as well have been a dwarf.

When she stopped to stoop to the ground, he realized what had caught her attention. Scattered about were flower petals of varying colors, but the ones that Leonore was fascinated with were a vibrant blue.

“Did they..?” Her voice trailed off as she completed the thought in her head; Dettlaff followed when she ran up to the stand of a flower vendor.

The vendor, a younger gentleman, was currently struggling to keep his wares from blowing away as the breeze continued to pick up. The sun was just beginning to set, meaning the day was giving way to a bitterly cold night. Dettlaff helped by standing up a small wooden container that was once filled with brightly colored blooms. He was thanked, but the words of gratitude were cut short when the young woman approached.

“Excuse me, sir? Did you get a shipment from Nazair today?” Leonore inquired, at which Dettlaff found his interest suddenly pique.

“I did, though I’m afraid I’m sold out of most everything. I’m very sorry.” Though the man seemed sincere, there was something about the way he looked at the young woman that made the vampire's hackles rise. Whatever it was that made him feel such a way, he most definitely did  **not** like it.

“Such a shame,” her voice was being carried away on the breeze, but Dettlaff could still hear her disappointment. “Did you get any roses? I noticed blue petals strewn about and couldn’t help but wonder.”

“Yes, though they were the first to sell. It isn’t often Nazairi blooms survive the trip through Cintra, but it seemed today was a lucky one indeed.”

Leonore sighed and her shoulders slumped, though it was hard to tell with Dettlaff’s coat on her.

“Lucky for you, perhaps. I hoped I might be able to finally get one.”

“Lucky for both of us,” the young man replied before reaching behind the counter to remove the very object she sought.

The stem was bent, but sure enough, there was the blue rose of Nazair tenderly clasped between his fingertips. Her eyes lit up much the way they did when Dettlaff offered his coat to her, and an ugly feeling began to rise up then catch in his throat. Unfamiliar with this particular emotion, he swallowed thickly to keep a strangely sudden anger at bay.

“Oh, it’s so  _gorgeous._ ” The dreamy way in which she sighed the last word had another profound effect on him to the point that he almost had to turn away in disgust. What was  _wrong_ with him?

“Yes, the stem made it difficult to put it among the rest of them, so I kept it in the stall for safe keeping.”

“How much.” It was more a demand than a question, Dettlaff surprising himself with how forcefully he spoke. The vendor eyed him with what could only be described as distaste before he returned his gaze to Leonore.

“For the lovely young lady, I give it to you as a gift.” The vendor held the rose out to her, which she then took carefully but gratefully. Her grip on it was tight so as not to let it get blown away.

“Oh  _thank you!!_  You’ve no idea how long and hard I’ve searched for one of these! Dettlaff, look!” she exclaimed happily, but when she turned to look at him, her face fell a fraction. “Dettlaff? Are you alright..?”

Without realizing it, he’d been scowling at the young vendor, but upon being spoken to, he quickly snapped out of his angry trance to fix his gaze on the rose. He didn’t want to see the look of concern in Leonore’s eyes.

“It is beautiful,” he finally commented, though his tone was without any true happiness for her. “Come, it gets late, and we would not want for the wind to steal your rose.”

She agreed with him, but she showered the vendor in more praise for his kindness until Dettlaff laid his hand upon the small of her back and gently urged her away. They still had much to talk about, but the jealousy that had reared its ugly head in him was all that occupied his thoughts until they were enough of a distance away. Ever receptive to his changes in temper, Leonore picked up on his growing irritation.

“Dettlaff, are you alright..? You’re not angry with me, are you?”

“No.”

A pause. The two seemed to be heading back toward Regis’ house, his abode being the most private place that was also warm that Dettlaff could think of. Then, Leonore stopped in her tracks abruptly, causing the vampire to stop when she tugged on his arm. 

“Please, tell me if I’ve upset you.”

For the first time since they met, there was a look of despair crossing her features, so afraid was she that she’d made him angry. His stomach clenched, the earlier agitation giving way to the rising need to reassure her.

“No, truly you did not. My..  _irritation_  is not of your doing. The vendor - his eyes. The  _looks_  he gave you were.. unsettling.”

When she visibly seemed to relax, he was a bit puzzled. Why would the idea of such make her content?

“The man’s a shameless flirt, yes, but he’s harmless. I was scared that I’d hurt you somehow - I know sometimes my kindness can be misconstrued as being just as flirtatious, but I assure you, I’ve no interest in someone so perverse. Especially not when I have you.” For a moment his brow raised as though in both confusion and curiosity, so she elaborated. “See,  _that_ is me flirting, and I’d much sooner do so with you than that lech.”

Would wonders never cease? he thought. She thought he was agitated with her even though he’d made it clear that it was the vendor that had unsettled him, yet she also made a point of making her desire for  _him_ known. The gratification he felt along with the burning need to share his very breath with her were overwhelming, but he still managed to suppress this in favor of pulling her close and guiding her back to Regis’. She took his arm again, this time giving his bicep a casual and supportive squeeze as they walked - a little quicker now that the weather was getting worse.

—

By the time they got inside, rain had begun to fall. It was still dusk, but the clouds blocked out any light from the setting sun, making it look as though night had already fallen. Luckily, neither had gotten really wet, but Leonore insisted on holding on to his coat even once inside. The door clicked shut behind them, alerting Regis to their arrival.

“Ah, there you are. I was wondering if you’d ever make it back.” The tone with which he spoke told them that he was almost anticipating his return with Leonore in tow, but Dettlaff paid it no mind. If they were to speak, it would have to be in his room for privacy. The cellar would be too cold and the conversation too intimate to have in front of his friend.

“Regis–”

“Oh don’t mind me. I’m making tea at the moment, so you simply do as you were and I’ll bring some to you once it’s ready. I’ll try not to eavesdrop.”

Which meant he was  _definitely_ going to eavesdrop. As much as he loved his friend dearly, Dettlaff equated him to a gossiping old woman. Leonore didn’t seem at all perturbed and thanked Regis kindly before allowing herself to be led away to Dettlaff’s room. Once the door closed behind them, they both sat on the bed beside each other.

Silence grew between them, so the young brunette took the time to unbuckle his coat and let it fall from her shoulders onto the bed then gently set her new rose on the nightstand. All the while, Dettlaff was simply trying to find a way to start the conversation let alone carry it. As he thought, he picked up the rose and, with a deft claw, removed the thorns then tucked it behind Leonore’s ear. She looked even more radiant with the blue bloom in her brunette hair. Words still escaped him, giving Leonore the chance to speak first, a light blush on her cheeks at his affectionate gesture though their topic would be more grave.

“Look, I’m not sure what it is you needed to tell me, but I’d like to confess something to you first.”

“Hm..?” That was odd, but he couldn’t really blame her. Any questions she’d directed toward him in regards to his vampiric nature on their way there were avoided with Dettlaff telling her that all would be answered in due time. Now was finally a better time to speak of it without any mortals prying into their conversation and potentially hearing something they shouldn’t.

“I wanted to tell you that your being a vampire has no bearing on my feelings for you.”

_What?_

“You’re handsome, kind, charming, and I won’t let your being nonhuman deter me from caring for you.”

_What is she..?_

“What I mean is, Dettlaff, if you’ll have me, I’d love to be close to you. Affectionately so.  _Romantically_ even. I.. I’m very fond of you - smitten, really.”

Awe was clearly shown in his eyes; she didn’t even care to ask anything. How could she profess feelings like this when she knew  **nothing?**  His mouth opened and closed, mind blank and emotions reeling. The heavy beating of his heart drowned out anything else she said, but he could see the look of concern she fixed on him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t flee - not when this was  _his room._ When she snapped her fingers before his face to shake him from the shock, he took her wrist, but not harshly. Reason had no influence over his actions, not when he’d been fighting feelings like this since she left the day prior. With a deft tug, she was in his lap, his lips claiming hers in a passion he’d not felt in  _years._ In the privacy of his own room, he could let himself act on some of these desires.

She was soft and receptive to him, using his shoulders to keep herself steady while letting his tongue ravage her mouth. It was intense,  _hot_ \- it burned them both from the inside out. Her fingers pulling at his hair only served to further spur him on, so lost was he to the desires, the love he was overcome with.

_Her love._

It was only once she pulled her lips from him for air that he was finally able to lift his head out of the sea of longing in which he drowned, but when she leaned in to kiss him again, he did his best to tame the raging waters and remain afloat. With far more self-control than he felt he should need, he indulged her with another kiss, but forced himself to take it slower - not like some fool virgin adolescent fearing he’ll be caught by his sweetheart’s parents.

The kiss had a mind of its own. Even when he was slow and careful, she stoked the flames of desire again. Her hands had been buried in his hair, the dark curls wrapped around her fingers while nails scratched tenderly at his scalp. The sensation nearly gave him cause to moan, but with Regis being so close, he dared not make a sound. As if on cue, he heard the telltale scream of a kettle and knew he had to force himself to part.

It wasn’t long before knuckles knocked on the door, prompting Dettlaff to stand from the bed and open it. He was still feeling breathless, his hair was a mess, and he could still taste Leonore on his lips, yet despite the knowing smirk on his friend’s face, he thanked him for the tea and allowed the door to shut again. Two mugs were held in his hand despite them being boiling hot, but the heat did not bother him in the slightest. However, he was very careful in allowing Leonore to take hers, knowing full well that humans were not resistant to temperature as he was.

This was the reminder he needed that he still had to tell her  _everything._

“Thank you,” she said politely, but her voice was thick with something amorous. She was careful in setting it down to let it cool, but Dettlaff held his, let it try to burn him.

“We.. We need to talk.”

“I know.”

“It is about my nature.”

“I know.”

“What  _do_ you know?”

She gave him a pause as she wracked her brain for what little information she had of vampires, but a dense fog was keeping her from thinking clearly. The heat of the fresh tea was what cleared his mind, and it was how he knew what she was going through just to try to think clearly.

“You drink blood.” He nodded in confirmation. “Does it have to be a virgin’s blood, or can it be anyone’s?”

“Anyone’s. I do not drink from humans - it provides no real sustenance.”

“How so?”

“It is akin to alcohol. Strong alcohol. I imbibe on the blood of animals, but I do not consume it from humans.”

“Well, that’s a relief I suppose, though I’ll admit I was prepared to offer my neck to you if it was something you needed to sustain yourself.” He looked at her like she might be insane, so she quickly added, “provided it didn’t kill me, that is.”

Still, it was like having a death wish, especially considering how easy it was to lose control and become addicted to the liquid life that flowed through all mortals.

“Do not offer yourself to me in such a way.”

“Why not?”

“I.. I do not wish to hurt you,” he admitted. “I fear losing you.”

“Well then don’t lose me.” The way she said it made it seem like it was an easy feat, like he would have to  _try_ to lose her to make it so.

“I will try.” It was a promise that he would see through to the very end.

“Was this it? Was this all you needed to speak with me about?”

“No. There is..  _more._ ” Part of him wondered if he should just show her rather than tell her, but he didn’t want to test the waters.

“Does it have to do with you being a vampire?”

“It does. Vampires are nothing like your fairytales,” he finally told her. “They are fierce, ferocious, and capable of killing with little thought.”

Dettlaff waited to see how she reacted, but she almost seemed to shrug - like it was old news.

“Does this not bother you? Make you afraid?”

“Not in the slightest. If you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it long before you kissed me.”

How could she possibly know that? For all she knew, he could be using her for that very purpose, but still she held onto a blind faith that he cared for her enough not to hurt her. Ah, but then, he admitted as much just moments before, now didn’t he?

“Vampires are considered monsters. You would allow yourself to be involved in the dealings of a  ** _beast?_** ”

“Are you the beast?”

This time he went silent, unsure of how to initially respond. Yet, he knew the answer, he simply wished not to speak it.

“ **Yes.** ” There was a pain in his tone and his gaze, one that reflected the pain from years past when he’d been dubbed a Beast by all who knew of him - even his friend.

“Then there is my answer as well.” She once again left him stricken; she was getting very good at that. “I don’t care what you say, I care for you, and nothing will make me feel otherwise.”

“Then you are a  **fool.** ” The harshness of his words hadn’t been intentional, but he was suddenly overcome with frustration and hurt. This woman knew  **nothing** of him, but she would just as soon follow him to her own death should he bid it. He set the mug of tea aside then stood, angry at himself and the world, and now the anger was beginning to get the best of him. With his back to her, he closed his eyes and breathed, willing the fury to subside. When he turned back, she looked no less determined.

“If it makes me a fool, then I’ll wear the title with pride.”

Something in him snapped.

“ ** _WHY?!_** ” His outburst surprised even him, but the memories that flooded him were tearing him up from the inside. The bit of composure he’d managed to summon was already slipping.

“ _Because,_ ” she now stood as well, her defiance matching his confused frustration. “I  _love_ you, you  **dope.** ”

Just like that, the fury vanished, but what replaced it, he couldn’t put a name to it. As far as he knew, he was  _blank._  Even as Leonore jabbed a finger at his chest in indignation.

“Calm yourself. You want to know what will make you lose me? Snapping at me like a petulant child is a good way to do it.”

Like a switch was flicked inside him, he pursed his lips and looked down, almost  _ashamed._

“I… am sorry. You do not -  _can not_ \- begin to understand.”

“Try me, I’ve been known to understand a great many things. Sit back down, take another deep breath, and relax. Talk to me. I’m here to listen, and I won’t be going anywhere.”

He did as she suggested, but when he sat, he ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the rising headache that was all of his thoughts and worries and fears trying to surface at once. It took him a while before he felt composed enough to talk, the internal struggle apparent. Leonore’s hands found their way up to his temples, her fingers digging in with enough pressure to provide soothing relief to his mind. With her kind ministrations, he finally found the words to speak.

“Leonore.. I am a  _killer._ A monster. I’ve taken lives, innocent ones.”

She did not pause in her tender massage, instead listening intently.

“There are plenty of killers in the world with good hearts.”

“You would not think my heart so  _good_ if you knew the details. I will spare you of them, but know that I showed no mercy.” He finally sighed and took her hands in his firmly. “I have felled innocent men with these claws. I.. I felled my own lover.”

There it was again, the pain that he’d suffered through and tried to stifle for the last two years. He had to close his eyes against the threat of tears that had gone unshed the entire time. Not even at Regis’ urging had he stopped to talk about the turmoil in his heart. Now that he was vocalizing it, he wanted to openly weep.

She didn’t need to prompt him to continue with words, the concern in her eyes compelled him.

“She.. She was my  _everything._ I would move mountains at her beckoning. It was unlike anything I had experienced, her love. She knew of my nature before having approached me, and though I had tried to scare her away, she stood and stared me down without fear. After but a few more encounters, we grew close. I fell for her.”

“What was her name..?”

“She called herself Rhenawedd, but it was not her true name. I believed for  _years_  in a woman that did not exist.”

Leonore’s concern was replaced with bewilderment.

“How did she not exist..?”

“I learned much later that she had deceived me. One night, she vanished without a trace. I heard nothing of her,  _knew_  nothing, until I received a letter years later. It detailed a horrible fate that would befall my beloved should I not comply with their demands. They knew things that none would otherwise know, about her and about  _me._ They knew my nature, what I was and what I would do for her. If I did not kill five people, each a specific target, within three days of each other, then they would tear her apart piece by piece and send them to me in response to any defiance on my part. I obeyed without question.”

This was the most he ever usually spoke at any given time, but now that the words were leaving his mouth, more followed in a flood as he recounted his heartbreak. Leonore stayed silent and let him speak.

“I searched for her restlessly, but when I was given a target, I killed. I had killed four of her kidnapper’s targets before a lead was found. A witcher, with Regis’ help, found her.”

“And she was well..?”

“She was. My reunion with her filled my heart to bursting, but then the witcher revealed to me that she was not who she said she was - she was  _never_ the woman I thought her to be.”

“Who was she?”

“Sylvia Anna, sister to the Duchess of Toussaint.” For a moment, awe crossed her features at the reveal as though she were listening to a thrilling campfire story. It may as well have been - even he had to admit that to his own ears, it sounded almost too fantastic to be believable. Regardless, he continued.

“I wanted answers, but she was hesitant in giving them. So overcome with rage, I gave her an ultimatum. She had three days to confess all of the secrets that she withheld from me, or I would unleash hell upon Beauclair.”

“Wait, what about her kidnappers??”

“Imagined. It was she who had written the letters, convinced me that I had no other choice than to become that which I had sworn I would not. A killer. A  _monster._ ”

“She.. lied to you?”

His nod was solemn, eyes downcast.

“That was wrong of her, then. Did she at the very least speak with you?”

“She did not.”

“Then did you do it..? Did you unleash hell like you said you would?”

“I did.”

The silence between them was palpable, so much so he could feel the very fear growing inside of the woman beside him. Her hands, however, still clasped his.

“What happened then..?”

“I sent a horde of my kin to raze the capital and kill without discrimination. They obeyed.”

“But did she ever appear? What did the witcher and Regis do? And what do you mean a horde of your kin? As in more vampires?” The sudden onslaught of questions was expected, so he answered them one by one starting with the least prudent to his tale.

“Vampires, yes. Lesser ones. Alps, bruxae, garkains, fleders,  _all_ variations - they all heeded my command and attacked the city. It was.. It was foolish. I lost many who were dear to me in the ensuing attack, but I was blinded by my fury and despair. Regis and the witcher found Syanna - another of her pseudonyms - and brought her to me.”

“Then what??”

“Patience, and I will tell you.” She was so engrossed in the story that she was eager for him to continue. It was almost endearing how raptly she listened, but he hoped she understood clearly that this was a tale of woe - not fantasy. When she bit her lip to refrain from speaking, he went on.

“I demanded answers,  _craved_ them. I asked if her love for me was all a ruse, but she insisted that there was no simple answer. It.. broke my heart.”

Tears silently fell, but he did not feel them until Leonore released one of his hands to gently wipe them away. Reflexively, he pulled from her touch, eyes closed to the memory of Rhena’s, though she never was so gentle as to brush away his sorrows like this.

“I killed her,  _murdered her._ For her lies, her offenses, for making me the very monster I fought to avoid becoming. She was dead before her body touched the ground, my claws in her heart, just as she’d sunk a blade in  _mine._ ”

When he opened his eyes, Leonore was watching him with a sadness that nearly matched his own. He searched her gaze for something,  _anything_ that would betray her hatred of the monster that sat crying before.

There was only sadness.

“So you see, Leonore,” he sighed to compose himself, “I have loved before, and that love betrayed me. It is why I pushed you away - in the hope it would deter you from hurting me more than I already do now.”

“Have I done anything to hurt you..?” Her apprehension gave him pause. Thinking back to the months they’d known each other, she’d shown him an unconditional kindness and affection the likes of which he did not deserve. Even when he had abruptly left her standing in an alley and avoided her at nearly all costs, she still managed to work her way back into his heart. Regis’ words rang through his mind once more, and he wondered if it was fate that brought her back to him.

“.. No. You have not.”

Relief washed across her expression as though she actually feared that she had.

“Good. Know that I would never do so, at least not intentionally. I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes I do or say things without meaning to, but if you’re willing to show me patience, I’m willing to forgive you your mistakes.”

“Even after all I’ve told you?”

“I’m not perfect, Dettlaff. If I judged you for the man you once were rather than seeing you for the man you are now, then I would be a hypocrite. I’ve made mistakes too, mistakes I’ve atoned for and sins for which I still pay the price. Would you hate me if I told you that I too once had a lover? One that I myself had inadvertently hurt through poor choices?”

“What do you mean..?”

Now it was her turn to share her tale, one that pained her just as Dettlaff’s pained him.

“I had a man in my life, a selfish man. He sought pleasure and comfort from me, but when I went to him I was met with coldness. I was blamed for his unhappiness when in reality, I was blameless, though at the time I never realized it. Someone could spit on him in the street and he would seek me out, pour out his heart, then accuse me of transgressions that were either in the past that we had overcome or otherwise were imagined. I was always sad, never a smile on my face, keeping to myself and my misery but ALWAYS tending to his. Then, something in my mind told me that it had to stop. I left, and in a letter told him I could not stand being unhappy any longer. When he made known how I abused his heart, I refused to reply. His letters went unanswered until he stopped sending them altogether. I have no idea where he is or what he’s done with his life, but for five years he hasn’t sought me out. I’ve accepted it, but I still live with the guilt that maybe there was something more I could’ve done to make things work. When my love for him waned after only a few weeks, I realized that I was better off, regardless of how he felt. It was another year before I found any semblance of happiness in me, but once found, I did what I could to stoke it. Now I do everything in my power to make those around me happy, something I didn’t have in me when I was with him. It’s nothing compared to your pain, but now that you know, do you think less of me..?”

“No.” His response was spoken without having to need to think. She was a light in his life when he was still coping with despair, even if all she did was gift him with pastries and provide conversation. To think that she was once so downtrodden and without joy was almost unimaginable.

“Then how can I hate you? It is, ironically enough, very human of you to make mistakes, but you do not hide behind false justifications to bandage your wounds. You’re noble for regretting them and even more so in doing what you can to prevent them. I don’t know what reaction you expected of me, but if I may speak plainly, I think your response to Syanna’s betrayal is understandable. It was wrong and rash, but were I in your stead, I daresay I don’t think I would do anything different. You tried to save her, even if it meant hurting those around you, and though killing her was not the best course of action, I can’t fault you for it - I probably would’ve done the same. She was, pardon me for saying, a right  _cunt_ for doing what she did to you.”

Again, Dettlaff was stunned into silence, but a few more tears spilled from his eyes before halting entirely. Part of him was upset she would say such a thing of a woman he once loved, adored,  _worshiped_ , but she was dead, and the insult, though far more vulgar than anything he would’ve said, was oddly fitting. He’d never openly admit that, though. After all, he did not know everything that went through Syanna’s mind when she plotted to use him - he knew only what he was told.

Leonore’s understanding lifted a weight off of his heart. She did not excuse his actions, but she did not condemn him, neither. Rather, she accepted it as simply a part of his history - a fact of life. It didn’t define him, though it did affect him greatly. Dettlaff didn’t know what to do with this revelation, instead stuck staring at this remarkable woman with disbelief. This time when she reached out to touch his face, he let her dry the remnants of his tears.

“Do you feel better now? Now that you’ve opened up about everything..?”

“I.. I am unsure. It still hurts.”

“I don’t doubt it will always hurt, but I hope that baring your heart to me at least provided some relief. I’m here to listen if that’s what you need.”

He was at a loss for words, but the faintest of heartfelt smiles crept its way onto his face. His eyes told her there was still pain, but she was glad to be able bring some warmth to the frost on his heart. Gently, she pulled him to her, and he allowed for her to do so. With his face buried in her neck and shoulder, he heaved a sigh. With his exhale, she caressed his back with soothing hands. His arms wrapped about her tightly, holding her as close as he physically could. They stayed like this, content to embrace and comfort.

“.. I have something to confess,” Dettlaff murmured into her shoulder, but he didn’t move from his spot.

“Then do so.”

“I.. do not know if I can love you like I had once loved before.”

“That’s fine,” admitted Leonore, still rubbing his back. “I won’t ask you to return my feelings - not after everything you’ve told me. But it won’t stop me from loving you.”

Her consideration could very well be the key to helping him heal, and he allowed himself to bask in the glow of her sincere kindness. Perhaps in time he could allow himself to love her freely, without the restraints of his previous heartbreak.


	7. Learning

The rain outside started out as a faint drizzle, but before even half of an hour passed, the heavens opened and drenched the world with a heavy downpour. Howling wind blew through the herb garden and thunder rolled in the distance, but the world may as well have been empty to Dettlaff. Leonore was pressed tightly to him, her sweet, rosy scent filling his senses as he closed his eyes and simply took her in. Her hands and arms were doing all they could to soothe him and the pain in his heart even now, hours after he spilled his tragic tale and revealed to her everything in the deepest depths of his heart. The fear and apprehension had melted away, bringing calm and quiet in their wake. This was perfect, he mused briefly, but only because the storm’s song served to further lull him into a sense of security in the small woman’s arms.

He had no idea when he began to drift off, nor when they laid together on the bed, tea forgotten on the nightstand. It could’ve been days from then for all he knew, but for the first time in centuries, he knew a true peace. A low, rumbling purr from within him intermingled with the thunder outside, but he didn’t wake until the flash of lightning shone through his heavy eyelids from his window. It was then that he woke and began to move, but a dainty hand gripped his shirt, pulling him out of his drowsy reverie. His eyes, though still filled with sleep, peered down at the human woman through half-lidded eyes, and he could feel himself begin to smile.

She was not a graceful sleeper. There was a fairly damp spot on his shirt where her mouth pressed against his chest, no doubt from drool. Her snores were only barely audible beneath the thunder and rain, but he could hear them clearly. When he brushed his clawed fingers through her brunette locks, they tangled a bit, but he tenderly worked them apart while she slept, blissfully unaware of his silent appraisal.

Though he was awake now, he couldn’t bring himself to rouse her from her slumber. It didn’t feel right. Instead, he looked over to his nightstand and determined he was just barely close enough to open the drawer and slip his hand inside. He withdrew a sketchbook and a piece of charcoal, determined to capture this moment since he at the very least had both of his hands free. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he shifted so he could better use his hands to draw. How long they stayed like this, he had no clue, but he was able to finish several small pieces on a single page before she began to stir from sleep. His hands stilled as she hummed and stretched against him, her cushy body still pressed tightly to his lean one, but she eventually settled back against him with what could best be described as a happy sigh. Her eyelids were fluttering open, but now that she had stopped moving, his hands resumed. After her eyes finished opening and adjusting, she remained still and quiet, perfectly content to watch him as he drew.

The first few images were small studies of her face while she slept, the Nazairi rose still somehow tucked behind her ear though it looked a little worse for wear. At one point she traced her fingertip along the outlines of her expression on the page, and he paused to allow her to do so despite the charcoal smudging slightly when she accidentally touched it. When he resumed, it was to begin a small doodle, this time of the slightly misshapen rose in closer detail. Though his hand worked, his eyes weren’t entirely focused on the sketches. He watched her watching him, taking note of all of the small features that warmed his heart. The kind eyes, round cheeks, circular face and the faintest freckles that dusted across her small nose. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine a chubby, freckle-faced little girl with mousey brown hair and cute cheeks. She was cute now, but seeing such innocent, almost childlike features in her made him inwardly chuckle to himself. It came out as a lazy smile and push of air from his nostrils, but she recognized it as the faintest of laughs. Her head turned so she could rest her chin on his chest, those hazel eyes digging into his blue ones with an unmistakable fondness as she spoke, voice a bit rough from sleep.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing of importance, liefje. I simply imagine you were an adorable child.”

He wouldn’t know. It was just a fleeting thought through a sleep-addled mind, but the term of endearment was a slip of the tongue that she ignored, though her eyes turned up in a joyful smile.

“Oh yes, I was teased about having fat cheeks in my youth. My own family would often compare me to a chipmunk.”

“ _Oh?_ ” Now  _there_ was an amusing thought. The mirth in his gaze was clear, as was hers.

“Mhm. And I perfected quite the pitiful pout thanks to them. I use it to this day to get what I want.”

“So you were a petulant youth.”

“You’ve no idea. What about you? I can’t really imagine you as a child, but I can only hope that your hair was just as curly.”

“ _Hmhmm_ , moreso. It was a constant mess, impossible to tame.”

The bright grin she shared with him made his heart flutter, even as he recounted memories from centuries passed. Mirrors never revealed to him their secrets, but he remembered days when he would have difficulty pushing his mop of black locks from his face with once tiny hands.

“You must’ve been tall even as a child.”

“No. I was, though briefly, a  _runt._ ”

“Impossible.”

“It is true. My siblings dwarfed me.”

“You’ve siblings? Are they as roguishly handsome as you?”

“Ehm.. Not in the same sense as you are thinking. I was raised amongst katakan.”

The memory wasn’t entirely fond, but it was what led to him having such innate influence over lesser vampires; in a sense, he was raised as one, his true parents lost to him in infancy. Despite this, he loved the family in which he was raised, dearly so. Where his brothers and sisters were to this day, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he hoped beyond hope that they were well.

“I’m not familiar with what katakan are.”

“They look to be large bats covered in soft, thick fur.”

“Ah, was it akin to being raised by wolves?”

“No. They have the appearance of beasts, but they are capable of human thoughts and interactions. Some can even take on more human forms, though most prefer not to.”

“I’d like to see some. They sound adorable.”

For a moment, he paused to contemplate showing her the katakan of his pack, but he pushed the thought from his mind. It was too dangerous, he decided. No harm would befall her so long as he was with her, but it wasn’t a risk he took lightly. Not a hair on her head would come to harm so long as he was alive and able to protect her.

“They can be frightening,” he decided to tell her, hoping to deter her from being too curious. It was the truth, but in his mind, they were far from being mindless monsters that attacked without discrimination. “They are large and imposing. I would advise against encountering one alone.”

“What if I’m with you..?”

He hummed in thought, allowing himself to entertain it fleetingly.

“It.. is possible. There are many in my pack, but I will not risk the potential for you coming into harm’s way.”

“Then tell me about them. I want to know everything.”

That she would press him for details in an attempt to educate herself on his kind was heartwarming and meant more to him than she knew. As such, he would tell her everything she wanted to know. He recounted physical aspects of different varieties as well as details about individuals. There were many, but he cared deeply for all of them. Before long, he was giving her the names by which they called themselves, most in an ancient tongue known only to his ilk, and though there was much that he divulged, she nodded and listened intently. It was a topic on which he could speak for days, but he stopped after realizing he’d been talking nonstop for the better part of ten minutes.

“I apologize,” he sighed after recalling a particularly fond memory - one that described the juveniles in his pack and how he took to playing and cavorting with them every chance he got. "I did not mean to ramble for so long.”

“ _Please,_  don’t stop. I love hearing all about them. You speak of this pack like they’re your own family.”

That’s because they were. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for them, just as they would do the same for him. It was why he  _hated_ himself after the results of the attack on Beauclair. So many were killed because of him, and it was something for which he internally punished himself every chance he got. It would never happen again, and he took the greatest of care to ensure their happiness and that they thrived outside the influence of mortals. Right now, they kept to the Brokilon Forest. The dryads permitted them to keep to the woods so long as he himself stayed clear of their territory, but in return, he also took to deterring foolish travelers from venturing into the dense forest both to protect his kin and to gain the guardians’ favor. It was a silent arrangement, but he assumed it was a favored one for the fact that he had yet to receive a well-aimed arrow through his head.

“I would like to hear more about you,” Dettlaff responded, hoping to encourage her to talk more so he could allow his racing heart to settle. He always got worked up when on the topic of his kin, both in excitement and pride. For now though, he truly wanted to learn more about her. It was rare that he ever took a genuine interest in another, especially a human, though he was always content to politely listen regardless of the conversation. This woman, however, made him want to listen and absorb as much as he could about her. Her genuine interest in him and his kind was returned with equal enthusiasm, though it was tempered to look like a mild but kind intrigue.

“What would you like to know?”

“ _Hmm_..” He had to think for a bit, but settled on starting from the beginning just as he had for her. “What of your family? Any siblings?”

“ _Ugh,_  yes. Two sisters from a different father, and who knows how many from a different mother. I had a broken home.”

“Oh. I am sorry.” Mentally, he berated himself for having brought up a sore subject for her, but how could he have known? A hand on his cheek brought him out of his own head, the gentle caress of her fingers reassuring him.

“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t horrible. I saw plenty of my sisters, but I have a Skelligan brother somewhere out in the world that I’ve never met. I’ll be the first to admit that my family was pretty awful, but I have  _some_ good memories of them at the very least. I don’t really know what happened to most of them. Some of my sisters I simply stopped speaking with. My grandmother raised me mostly while my mother took to drugs and my father to drink, so I try to stay in touch with my grandmother, but my parents I couldn’t care less about.”

Though her memories weren’t as fond, he still listened closely to each word, hanging on to them so to speak.

“Have you spoken with her of late..?”

“Yes, but as she grows older, she’s been getting a bit senile. She thinks the children of her village are out to get her, so she’s become a cranky old crone, but she holds a sweet spot for her favorite granddaughter.”

The cheeky grin she gave him made him chuckle. There was something subtly yet inherently mischievous in her that came forth at times. He was certain that though she was a young woman, she still held on to many childish qualities.

“Something tells me you were rambunctious as a youth,” he commented and watched as she shrugged.

“Actually, I was pretty quiet. I didn’t come out of my shell until I reached my sixteenth summer, and even then I was reserved. I’m only outgoing now because I.. Well, frankly, I got tired of being lonely.”

“Lonely..?”

“Yeah.. I didn’t have friends growing up. I was always a bit too odd for the other kids. Not even my own sisters wanted much to do with me, and most of the time the children my age avoided me.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” Of course, he didn’t think she was lying to him, simply that she was such a joy to be around now that it was difficult to comprehend how she could have been otherwise.

“Believe it. I haven’t always been this amazing.” Leonore’s brazen boast made him roll his eyes, but the grin on her face and bubbly giggle made it clear she was jesting.

“I will not disagree with your claims, though modesty is considered the color of virtue, liefje.”

“Oh please, your fancy proverbs won’t sway me. I know I’m  _fantastic_.” Again she laughed, and he found himself chuckling with her until she spoke again. “By the way, what is a ‘liefje’? This is the second or third time you’ve said it.”

A look of passing confusion crossed his expression before he realized that he really had been calling her that. It wasn’t necessarily serious, but it wasn’t originally intentional. Rather, it suited her in his mind, for she had become very dear to him.

“It..  _hm_ , it has a number of equivalents in the common tongue.”

“Is it Nazairi?”

“It is.”

“Well, what does it mean?”

“Literally?”

“Sure.”

He paused for a moment, then suddenly found himself a bit tongue-tied. If he was to be literal, he was calling her a lover, though it was simply a term of affection similar to how one called someone 'honey’ or 'dear.’ It was fairly intimate, he realized, and he had to tame the sudden burst of butterflies in his stomach. The effect she had on him continued to astound. He cleared his throat lightly before he elaborated.

“It is.. It means 'lover.’”

The soft confession made her smile.

“And here I thought you said you couldn’t return my feelings.”

“It is used in a similar sense to calling someone 'darling.’ I.. I am very fond of you, Leonore. Your love for me is gratifying, but I do not wish to toy with your heart.”

“What do you mean..?” Her smile faltered slightly, making his own heart wrench at the fraction of a change.

“It is a term of endearment. Nothing more.”

Silence fell between them, and though she looked like she may be hurt, she schooled her expression and brought back a genuine smile.

“That’s alright. I already told you that I won’t hold it against you if you don’t return my feelings,” she admitted, though he had already seen the pain in her eyes no matter how minute it was. Dettlaff had become increasingly more receptive to every emotion in her stare. “Besides, I was teasing you anyway. I daresay I’ll have to find a suitable pet name for you in return though.”

Her attempt at being lighthearted brought him some relief.

“What would you call me?”

“A number of things, admittedly some of which are less than appropriate.” When she gave him a wink, he furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Why is that?” Why would she call him something inappropriate when his own term of affection was fitting?

“Because I find myself irrevocably attracted to you, of course. But I can’t go around calling you a stud in polite company, can I?”

Oh.

_Oh._

Heat rose in the vampire’s face, and he had to avert his gaze. She had effectively managed to embarrass him, though a small, almost sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at her flattery. It was very rare that he ever felt like that, and while it was foreign to him, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. This was, however, the first time Leonore made her  _sexual_ attraction to him known, and he wasn’t sure what to do with this knowledge. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to her too, though he wouldn’t admit as much outright.

Sensing his unease, Leonore snorted and laughed before placing a light, platonic kiss to his cheek.

“You’re adorable when you blush, you know that?”

Now she was teasing him, which only served to make him go even redder.

“I could say the same for you,” he ground out through his embarrassment, though he was suddenly very aware of how they lounged together on his bed now. He laid on his back with his head and shoulders elevated by pillows, but she was still flush against him, her every curve pressed to his side. Her face was close to his, though for the majority of their conversation, she had rested her chin on his chest, looking at him when he spoke so as to give him her undivided attention. No doubt she could hear how his heart skipped a beat when she teased him so. Looking for an escape, he picked up the sketchbook that had gone forgotten, laid beside him in favor of paying attention to her when she talked. Now though, he wished to change the subject. It was a success, though barely.

“You know, that lady at the pawnshop was right when she said you’re incredibly talented,” noted Leonore when he opened the book to flip through the pages. He stopped at the one he’d most recently used, her charcoal face sleeping beside the margin.

“Thank you. I’ve spent years perfecting my art.”

“It shows. Your drawings look like the works of a master.”

Was she trying to tease him again? It almost seemed like it, but her words were genuine.

“It is the result of much practice and study.” He was humble, though he did feel a swell of pride at her praise. When she sat up to better look at his sketches, he allowed her to take the book from his hands and flip through it herself. He sat up too and watched as she marveled at what he considered to be nothing more than messy doodles.

“These are amazing, Dettlaff. Have you ever painted anything like this?”

“I have.”

“May I see??” She seemed suddenly very excited, but he shook his head, much to her dismay.

“I have none of my old works. All of what I’ve painted were left in Beauclair or sold.” He was reminded of a time when he allowed Rhena to convince him to accept commissions, though he only did so both because she suggested it and because the money it brought meant she had less need to put her life on the line as a mercenary and bandit. After she went missing, he hadn’t picked up a palette since. Though the memory brought with it a fresh wave of pain, he dismissed it in favor of watching Leonore peruse his charcoal artwork.

“Do you have any paints with you at least?”

“No. After losing Rhena, I have abandoned the practice.” The deep frown in response to his admission was concerning.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I did, yes. It was a pleasant distraction.”

“Well then you shouldn’t let her memory ruin it for you. I for one would be absolutely ecstatic to see one of your paintings. I know you try to avoid anything associated with her at all costs, but it pains me to see such a wonderful hobby ruined for you like that.”

“Ah, you misunderstand.” It wasn’t that he disliked painting now, he simply hadn’t the inspiration any more. When Syanna died, so did his muse in a sense. “I simply lack inspiration and materials. The shops in town lack the appropriate supplies for me to continue the practice as well.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll keep an eye out when I make my deliveries. If I see anything you could use, would you mind if I brought it to your attention?”

“Not at all.” In reality, he probably wouldn’t bother trying to purchase more materials. He had been particular when choosing his paints, sometimes even going so far as to make his own when there were none that were satisfactory for purchase. Still, her sentiment was nice, so he would humor her if it made her happy.

“Then I’ll be sure to do so,” she said with a smile up at him.

—

As Dettlaff and the mortal woman continued to converse, the storm proceeded to rage outside. It grew dark quickly, but he lit a lamp when it became too dark for her to see. Still, they continued to talk in the candlelight, but neither of them paid any mind to time nor the world around them. Eventually, Leonore yawned then looked outside his bedroom window at the rain that pelted the glass.

“You know, I should probably be heading home by now. I have more work to do tomorrow, and I fear I’ve only been keeping you up as well.”

“Nonsense.” His response was immediate, making her look at him with a cocked brow. “You will stay here until the storm passes. I cannot bear the thought of you braving the weather only to fall ill or find yourself hurt.”

While his consideration for her was sweet, she didn’t want to impose.

“I’ll be alright, Dettlaff. My home isn’t too far from here anyway, so I should be able to make it back quickly. I’ll be wet, but otherwise I’ll be fine.”

“No.” It was something by which he was going to stand firmly. There was no way he could let her leave when the weather was so foul. “Please, liefje. You may sleep here.”

“Here?” she asked. “As in with you?”

“Is this an issue?” It wasn’t unusual for him to share a sleeping space amongst his pack, and they often would huddle together for warmth on nights like these. It didn’t occur to him that it could be misconstrued, even after she frowned at him.

“Are.. Are you certain..? I feel like that’s a bit sudden, don’t you?”

“Sleeping..? It is probably drawing close to midnight.” The utter confusion in his eyes told her that she was horribly mistaken and he was far more naïve than she thought he would be, so after a moment she shook her head and fixed him with a smile.

“Never mind. I thought perhaps you had something  _else_ in mind.”

“What else could I have meant?” He thought he’d made it very clear.

“Nothing. It’s nothing, truly. If you’d like for me to sleep here with you, I suppose I won’t decline. You don’t seem like you’d be too keen on letting me leave anyway.”

“No, I am not.”

“So be it,” she said with an air of finality. He was pleased she would see things his way. “Though, I don’t suppose you and Regis would have a nightgown laying about..? I’d rather not sleep in the clothes I’ll need to wear tomorrow, but I suppose I will if I have to.”

“I apologize, but I do not think so.” Still, he thought about it for a moment, and after looking her over briefly, he stood and went to a dresser that sat in the corner of his room.

The clothes inside were mostly dark colors or black, mainly because they simply suited him, and the lack of garish colors made it easier for him to remain unnoticed. He removed a shirt, one he wore fairly often, but it would do. It was long, as was his preference for he was a tall man, but on her it would probably fit like a dress. As such, he handed it to her and watched as she then stood and held it up to her short frame by the shoulders.

Comically enough, the bottom hem would reach her knees.

“Well, it’ll work. Are you sure you won’t mind?” she asked, giving him one last chance to change his mind.

“Not at all.”

“Very well. I’m going to get dressed then.”

They stood and stared at each other, neither one of them moving before Dettlaff realized she wanted for him to leave so she could have some privacy.

“Ah, right. I apologize.” When he made for the door though, she stopped him.

“You don’t have to actually  _leave_ , but uhm.. Could you at least turn around..?”

“Of course.” With that, he did as she wished.

“You can change too if you like. I won’t look.”

She too turned her back to him then started to disrobe. In all honesty, he didn’t care if she saw him undressing or not. He never really felt the need to hide his body save for around people he did not know. However, he didn’t wish to make Leonore uncomfortable.

When he discarded his own clothing, he dug through his drawers to find the sole pair of undergarments he owned. They were a bit ill-fitting, loosely hanging from his hips despite being drawn by a tie in the front, but they would suffice. The only reason why he owned them was, in fact, for when he was forced to wash the rest of his clothes outside yet had nothing left to wear. As comfortable as he was with his body, he didn’t care to show off  _everything_  to strangers whilst doing his laundry.

Inwardly, he was suddenly starting to become almost self-conscious. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t be feeling this way, but he was almost completely nude in the presence of a woman whom he desired. Realistically, there was nothing for him to feel insecure about. He was toned, well-built from spending so much of his time hunting and being generally active. Wrestling with the larger of his kin made him strong, even for a vampire. His biceps were decently thick, though not ill-proportioned compared to the rest of his body. He almost prided himself on his fitness, though that came with being a leader of a horde of creatures - the majority of which made him look quite small. Even the garkains had trouble besting him in competitions of brute strength, though one wouldn’t know it by looking at him. If he wanted to, he could lift a fully grown bear single-handedly with relative ease. 

Despite all of this, when he looked down at himself and the dark hair that covered his chest and trailed down his abdomen, his mind wondered if she would still find him as attractive now as when he still wore clothing. The only reasonable explanation for his pointless and outright ridiculous concern was solely for the fact that he wanted, more than anything, for her to desire him too, though he would never admit it to himself let alone aloud. Once finished inwardly kicking himself for such  _stupid_ insecurities, he waited patiently for Leonore to let him know when he was free to turn back around.

“Alright,” she said after a few more moments of rustling fabric. “I do have to say though, you’re thinner than you appear under that frock of yours.”

He turned to see what she meant and almost had to immediately look away. It was very clear she was buxom, but he didn’t realize just how much so when she wore loose and billowy skirts and blouses. While his shirt was indeed long on her, it hugged the curves of her plush hips, waist, and breasts. The top few buttons were undone to allow for more comfort, leaving little to the imagination. Regardless of this, she looked, without a doubt,  _wonderful_. Something in him growled possessively, but he swallowed thickly to push down the growing need to lay waste to the offending garment.

Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

No, he reminded himself that the storm outside was too harsh to allow for her go home on her own, and now that she wore his clothing, he would be damned if she would wear anything else for the remainder of the night.

“Dettlaff..?” Her inquisitive voice shook him from his thoughts, and he found he’d been staring at her intensely. “Is it too much..?”

“No.”  _It’s perfect_. “You look fine.”

Why she cared about how she looked was beyond him. After all, they were going to bed - her appearance didn’t matter. Satisfied with his answer, she turned to douse the candle on the nightstand. Her blue rose was laid delicately beside the now cold mugs of tea that they’d completely forgotten. He made a mental note to apologize to Regis later for wasting it. For now, he watched as she put out the light and crawled underneath his covers then followed suit. His heart was rejoicing at having her so close, especially with his shirt adorning her body. His linens would probably smell like her after the night too, which wouldn’t be altogether unpleasant.

While he laid on his back, she laid on her side and curled up, her cold feet pressed to his warm leg and her back against him. It wouldn’t do, not for him. The room was chilly, and he didn’t want for her to be uncomfortable. When he turned to curl his body around hers, he waited to see if she would protest. On the contrary, she welcomed the gesture and pressed back against him in response. As such, he wrapped his arms around her and cuddled her close to his chest. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep, leaving him to lay and revel in her soft body until sleep finally claimed him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The headcanon in which Dettlaff was raised with lesser vampires isn't originally mine, but I jumped on the bandwagon real quick. I originally got the idea from Tumblr user betemorne.


	8. Nightmare

_Blood._

_It dripped from his hands, the ceiling, his very eyes._ _  
_

_His chest was a gaping chasm, and in it, his heart spurt the red fluid with each beat._

_A howl shook the earth, but when he turned, there stood not a wolf, but a pup, its maw dripping with gore._ _  
_

_Weeping, he dropped to his knees, but he did not hit the ground. His knees hit flesh._

_She lay beneath him, a corpse, and nothing more._ _  
_

_Her black hair was damp with the life-giving liquid._

_Her skin was cold and her blood did not flow, but she spoke to him._

_“I waited for you to come.”_

_Her eyes were not the same. What should have been grey were the color of the forest, and they stared up at him lifelessly._

_She, too, shed scarlet tears._  
—  
When Dettlaff’s eyes shot open, he sat bolt upright, panting heavily and sweating profusely. A scream almost tore from his throat, but instead he gasped sharply as though he was desperate for air. His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he fought to regain control of his breathing. A small hand lightly touched his shoulder, and he shut his eyes again tightly. Once he opened them again, it was all gone - the blood, the wolf, the corpse. Slowly, the realization that it was all a horrible dream set in, but he could hear nothing around his racing heart. However, he could still tell someone was trying to talk to him over its pounding.

“ _..ettla.. ar.. okay..?_ ”

He shook his head to clear his mind of the horrible sound of his heartbeat. The hand on his shoulder squeezed lightly then began rubbing circles into it. It didn’t affect him much in that moment - he was still trying to banish the feelings of terror and overwhelming despair. The dream almost seemed like an omen, but of what, he did not know. After another few minutes of sitting, trembling, he began hearing sounds that weren’t from inside him. There was wind howling, but he vaguely remembered the storm that had passed over them. Then, there was the voice. It shushed him like a mother would hush their crying babe, and it was then that he registered that he wasn’t alone in the bed.

“It’s okay, Dettlaff. I’m here for you. Everything will be alright.” A woman was mumbling softly into his ear, her voice thick with sleep, yet incredibly soothing. With the visions finally gone, he was able to allow himself to appreciate her affections. He looked to his side and came face to face with Leonore, his shirt on her body, her eyes closed as she tried to comfort him.

“L- Leonore..” He was hesitant to say her name in case she suddenly vanish like the rest of his nightmare, but she opened her eyes and gave him a tired smile.  
  
Those eyes. They were the ones from his dream, but they were not part of the same woman. Rather than let himself be further shaken, he sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face.

“Do you need anything, Dettlaff? Water? Some food? Please, I want to help,” she implored, louder this time. It was then he realized just how dry his mouth was, but he wasn’t going to let her get up to get him something with which to quench his thirst. With a soft shake of his head and a hand gesture to urge her to stay put, he stood from the bed to get a drink. The bed looked like it had been thrashed in, the covers on the floor and some feathers from the pillow strewn about. How long had he been dreaming? It wasn’t the first time his mind conjured such nightmares, nor would it be the last, but he hoped he hadn’t tossed and turned so much that he accidentally disturbed Leonore.

Bare feet padded faintly on the wooden floor as Dettlaff left the bedroom in search of a drink. He found a jug of water sitting on the table, probably Regis’, though he knew the vampire wouldn’t mind if he drank it, then downed the contents.

“Is everything alright..?” the soft, feminine voice asked from behind him as he set the emptied jug back onto the table. The dream had shaken him, making him hesitant to turn and see the eyes that haunted him. However, when he did, they were not cold and lifeless. They were still vibrant and lovely, though more aware now that Leonore had a little more time to wake up.

Her concern touched him, but rather than trust his voice, he held a hand out to her, almost beckoning her to come to him. She did so without hesitation and wrapped her arms around his waist in a firm yet comforting hug. It wasn’t quite what he’d expected her to do, but he was grateful either way. He could hear her pulse, feel her warmth - his nightmare hadn’t been as bad as others he had, but it still left him with a sense of foreboding that her presence relieved.

“Come,” he finally sighed, “let us return to bed.”

The domesticity of the statement left a warm feeling in his chest that spread throughout him. Just being there with this woman brought about a comfort that was usually hard-fought when he woke from such horrid dreams. When she smiled and took his hand to lead him back to his room, he felt himself almost visibly relax as he followed. They laid back down, but this time she kept close to him, her head on his arm and a leg draped across him so she may hug him with her entire body. As such, he was turned to face her and cuddled her close. He loved how affectionate she was, he realized, and took the time to relish her closeness.

“Did you want to talk about it?” she asked softly, her voice low so as not to disturb the one other person residing in the otherwise silent house.

“No,” he answered, “I do not wish to relive it.“

It was true enough. Any other night, he’d probably discuss the dream with Regis should he accidentally be woken up, but it seemed that tonight this wasn’t the case. He didn’t want to worry Leonore with the details of such an awful nightmare, so he decided it would be best to keep it to himself for now. Besides, it was only a dream, and he knew that now. There was no need to linger on it.

"Alright. I know when I have horrid dreams that talking about it makes me feel better, so if you change your mind, I’m all ears.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment, but I will be fine.”

“Is there anything at all that I can do to help?”

He stopped to think for a moment, considering what could possibly be better than holding him close like she already was.

“Mmh.. There is nothing that comes to mind.” Already she had her leg up over his hip, arm draped across his shoulder, and everything in between pressed flush against him. With her as close as she was, he could think of nothing better than simply being in this moment. The closeness, the affection, the touch - he was starved for it, even if he didn’t see it when he wasn’t receiving it. It felt especially good after waking so forcefully and unpleasantly.

“Well, let me know if you think of anything.”

“You do plenty simply by holding me.”

Even in the dark, he could see the faintest of pink across her cheeks. The smile on her face was almost bashful, and he found himself returning a small smile of his own. It was as though he hadn’t just woken with a fearful cry on his lips. Without warning, she gave him a sweet kiss to the very end of his nose. This caught him by surprise, but he smiled warmly in response.

“I’m glad to be able to make you feel better. Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep..?”

“Perhaps. We shall see.”

“Would you like for me to rub your head..? That used to put me to sleep as a child.”

Confused, Dettlaff cocked a brow at the woman. Rub his head..? What good would that do? He found his answer immediately when Leonore dug one of her hands into his hair and kneaded at his scalp with her fingertips. A low groan slipped from his mouth before he could stop it, but the sensation was wonderful. When his eyes fluttered shut, he felt her press more kisses to his face starting from his hairline and working her way down.  _Never_ had he ever received attention like this, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Before her lips reached his, he was already drifting off - this was the fastest he’d fallen asleep in centuries.

—

Waking was far more pleasant come morning, especially when Dettlaff woke to find he was still being held closely by the woman who slept beside him. Her body was small compared to his even if she was nice and plush, but it didn’t stop her curves from molding perfectly to his back. She was wrapped around him like she had been just prior to falling asleep, but they must have moved about in their sleep for her to be clinging to him from behind like a rucksack. This was far from unpleasant, and though sunlight bathed them in warmth, he kept his eyes closed and basked. It wasn’t until lips pressed to his bare shoulder that he made any move, but it was only to involuntarily shudder. However, she made no other move, simply pressed her lips to his back and went still. For a moment he wondered if she had fallen back asleep, but he didn’t have to do so for long when he heard her faint snores.

As much as he wanted to stay like this forever, eventually he felt the rising need to relieve himself. Refusing to ruin the moment, he stayed there until he began to feel uncomfortable - only then did he finally sigh and pry Leonore’s arms and legs from around him to stand and silently leave the room. Before he closed the door, he looked back to watch the woman continue to sleep peacefully. The shirt she wore had hiked up over her hips, and if the covers had fallen any lower down her body, he’d probably be able to see far more than he’d intended to. Though the sight was alluring, he kept his gaze on her face. She looked so peaceful, her brown hair strewn about the pillow behind her head and her limbs splayed about now that she did not have him to snuggle close. It’d be a trial getting back in to bed what with how she took up almost the entire space, but the mental image of her in blissful slumber was one he would keep close to his heart for ages to come. Reluctantly, he closed the door behind him, careful to not make a sound.

After tending to the most pressing of his body’s needs, he quietly made his way back to his bedroom to see if Leonore had woken yet. It was getting late in the morning, but when he pressed his ear to the bedroom door, he could still hear her slow heartbeat and even breathing - still asleep. As much as he wanted to return to her side and envelope her in his arms, he decided it was best to let her rest and resolved to find something to eat instead. He could smell cooking meat from the kitchen telling him that Regis was also awake; good - once he finished with food, he’d see about having his friend give him a shave. The stubble that was already sprouting from his jaw was beginning to feel unpleasant.

Sure enough, Regis stood in the kitchen in a similar state of undress tending to a cooking spit, watching to be sure the meat did not burn and was cooking evenly. He had only just started, for it was still red. Dettlaff was briefly reminded of his nightmare, but he pushed the memory from his mind as he approached his dearest friend.

“Sleep well?” The question was innocent enough, but there was something suggestive about Regis’ tone - something that Dettlaff failed to pick up on.

“Not entirely, though I suppose well enough. However, it is.. easier to sleep with someone beside me.”

“Oh trust me, I’m  _very_  well aware of that. It warms my heart to know you’ve gotten so close to someone again. I was beginning to fear you’d become a recluse.”

Dettlaff hummed in response as he eyed the meat that slowly roasted - he’d eat it raw if he didn’t have any decency in the moment, though he did stand there in only his undergarments.

“Seclusion is not as bad as you seem to think. I still prefer it.”

“And what of Leonore?”

There was a pause as he considered the possibilities. To live in seclusion was to be without her; thus, he surmised that perhaps he was satisfied with his current arrangement. After how she touched and soothed him the night prior, it suddenly seemed almost impossible to imagine being without her. The realization was a bit shocking, but Dettlaff still wouldn’t have it any other way.

His silence was enough of an answer for Regis, for the man couldn’t suppress his grin.

“You know, I doubt she would be opposed to you staying with her should you wish to do so.”

“ _What?_ ” It was like the thought was absolutely ridiculous. Why would she ever want to open her home to someone like  _him_? As much as he wanted to entertain the thought, he shook his head in disbelief.

“Is that so hard to believe? Over the course of three days you went from acquaintances to lovers–”

“We are not lovers.” Dettlaff was quick to correct his friend.

“Ah, so I didn’t hear you calling her ‘liefje’ while you conversed yesterday evening? Oh don’t give me that look, I simply heard you in passing as I walked down the hall. What I find to be ridiculous is that she told you she loves you and you expect me to believe you don’t love her back.”

There was a stunned silence as Regis tended to the cooking meat, using his claws to check it with little regard for the flames that licked his skin. It took Dettlaff a while to come up with a response, so lost was he in his thoughts.

He did not deny that he felt strongly for Leonore, but love? No, he loved Rhena once, and their affair was altogether different. It was primal and burned hot with passion. What he felt for Leonore was nothing in comparison, though in a sense he almost felt it was more. She said and did things that he couldn’t imagine coming from Rhena - she was sweet and cute where the other was brazen and powerful.

What attracted him to his Rhenawedd was how fearless and strong she was. The way she led a band of rough and burly vagabonds reminded him of how he stood at the head of a horde of beasts that far outnumbered and outweighed him. It was a natural attraction between two alphas, one that resulted in countless pleasurable nights of raw passion. That was love, was it not? They had been perfect for each other, or so he had imagined. It wasn’t like the fairytales, but that was what made it so real.

On the other hand, Leonore only had to look at him and he would feel his stomach twist into knots. Everything about her was tender and innocent. His having and holding her would only corrupt her pure soul, though it was something he longed for just as he’d once longed for his former lover. The way she touched and spoke to him was like she truly thought he was deserving of such affections - which was delusional at best. Something told him that she still had no inkling of just how dangerous he was, and should she come to fear him in the future when the realization finally dawned on her, he wanted to remain unfeeling so as not to allow her to break a heart that was already broken. That he allowed her to get so close was a mistake on his part, but she felt too  _good_. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had tried so very hard just to ensure he was happy, so he didn’t have it in him to push her away any more when all she wanted to do was to please him. She sought nothing in return, and that left him with a fuzzy feeling in his mind, heart, and stomach.

“You alright? You seem a bit dazed, my friend.” Regis pulled him from his thoughts, but he only fixed his friend with a blank stare.

“I had a dream last night. A strange one.” Dettlaff’s attempt at changing the subject worked judging by the sudden curiosity in his friend’s gaze.

“Do tell.”

“I stood in blackness and was surrounded by blood - even I was bleeding. I heard a sound and turned to find a wolf pup licking gore from its snout. Rhena lay dead on the ground, but she spoke to me, saying she awaited me. When I looked into her eyes, they were not hers, but Leonore’s. It.. It left me shaken when I awoke and I still feel a sense of foreboding.”

“I can imagine,” Regis hummed, a soft frown on his face. “When interpreting dreams, it is best to find an oneiromancer, but I daresay even I can tell you that those are all ill omens indeed. Well, if you believe in such things.”

“But what could it mean?” Dettlaff didn’t believe in much, but the dream had felt so real that he was willing to entertain anything.

“Ah, now  _that_  I cannot say. Dreams can be very fickle and random. Blood does not mean blood in the literal sense, nor even in the figurative. It can be something as unorthodox as you needing to eat more protein for all we know. Now, I know of someone that can interpret dreams somewhere in Novigrad, but I haven’t heard of anyone with such talents around here.”

For how much he spoke, it was a very long-winded way of saying ‘I have no idea what is going on.’ At least he had tried, though the attempt was weak.

“Though, I must say, dream reading can be very similar to the false fortune telling that humans participate in. It is all very suggestive and vague, meant to apply to anyone and everyone yet make individuals think it applies only to them. If you are going to seek answers, I recommend being wary of fraudulent practices.”

He wasn’t planning on finding anyone to interpret his dreams, but he supposed the information was good to know? There wasn’t much of anything he would do with it though. Before he could open his mouth to respond, his keen hearing picked up on movement in another room. It was no doubt Leonore, and while he initially wasn’t going to pay her any mind, he heard a loud thump before what had to be the door slamming open. He and Regis shared a look then began to go see what had happened, but in came the short woman, hair a mess, blouse and skirt barely on properly, and her eyes wide in panic.

“What time is it??!!”

“It’s not quite late morning yet. I don’t have the exa–”

“ _ **SHIT.**_ ” The loud swear with which she cut off Regis was definitely not something either man thought they’d ever hear her say, but perhaps she wasn’t as sweet and innocent as they thought. Neither of the two vampires even had a chance to react before she very abruptly and quickly enveloped Dettlaff in a hug then smashed her lips to his in a hasty smooch before taking off out the front door. The silence that fell shortly afterwards was a stunned and confused one.  

“What.. just happened?” For the first time in a very long time, Regis was at a loss for words. Even Dettlaff stood with his mouth slightly agape, the taste of Leonore lingering on his lips.

“Her job. I forgot - she has deliveries to make.” It only just occurred to Dettlaff that she had told him she had work to do last night. Perhaps he should’ve woken her when he rose for the day, but she looked too peaceful. “She must have slept in too late.”

“Then you’ll have to make sure she gets something to eat while she’s out. It’s a shame she didn’t get to break her fast. The first meal of the day is considered the most important you know.” When Dettlaff cocked a brow at his friend, it was returned with a smirk.

“Can she not provide food for herself?”

“Perhaps, but if she’s working, she can’t very well just stop what she’s doing to find something to eat, now can she?”

He didn’t know; could she? At his continued look of bewilderment, Regis rolled his eyes.

“If you bring her something to eat, I think she’ll greatly appreciate it. I’ll pack up some of this meat with some bread and an apple, then you can take it to her. You might even get more than a kiss this time.”

Regis’ every attempt at being suggestive was met with confusion; though it was a bit frustrating having to explain all of his jokes, it was also amusing watching the realization dawn on his companion’s face, so he doubted he’d ever stop.

“What more should I want? I count myself fortunate that she kisses me at all though I’ve told her it is in her best interest to stay away.”

“Even though you’re certain you don’t love her? Really Dettlaff, you baffle me at times. Why do you not pursue her when she’s so clearly smitten with you? Is it not completely obvious?”

“I am aware of her feelings,” Dettlaff sighed. “I dare not reciprocate them.”

“Is it because of Syanna?” The response was a solemn nod accompanied by a pained expression. “I understand her betrayal cut you deep. I do not wish to press you, but I have a very strong feeling about Leonore. A good one. Even if you do not profess your undying adoration for her, is there any true harm in being sweethearts? Held hands, shared kisses, long embraces - from what I’ve witnessed, you’ve already partaken in a few of those. Indulge yourself a bit and maybe you’ll find her tenderness to be what you need to fully heal.”

“And if she is no different? Should I simply allow her the chance to lie and wound me as Syanna did? It is in her nature to do so.”

Regis sighed heavily and shook his head.

“Alright, yes. Humans have a propensity for lying. However, that alone does not make someone a bad person. I’ve told a few fibs in my life, but I daresay you like me well enough to share my home. Granted, I’ve never lied to you, nor do I care to lie about things of any importance, but do you think it makes me awful?”

“No.”

“Then why allow that one flaw to define Leonore?”

Dettlaff went silent, not wanting to answer. He was scared, and he knew it. Heartbreak was by far worse than even the greatest of physical pains, for it was one from which he could not heal - at least not to his liking. Leonore already knew about this fear and he was sure Regis suspected as much as well. Rather than give his friend an answer, he turned and headed back to his room.

“Dettlaff? Where are you going?” Regis called after him, making him turn briefly.

“To dress. I am bringing Leonore some food, am I not?”

With that, he retreated into his room to get ready for the day. He’d eat, have Regis help him shave, then be on his way - it was better than letting himself be interrogated further anyway.


	9. Protect

The mare rode hard, harder than Leonore wanted to push her, but she was so far behind schedule that she dared not slow for a second. There was so much to transport, so much to ferry from one town to another. She felt as though she’d collapse at any moment alongside her horse. Being a courier wasn’t a glamorous lifestyle, but she enjoyed the travel even if it was a demanding occupation. Despite having woken late, she managed to fulfill half of her obligation for the day before noon even came around. This was the fastest she’d ever worked, but she was damn good at what she did and she wanted to make up for lost time. This was the last of the small orders around outside town - next would be larger ones, then the ones that she could deliver on foot in the marketplace. 

Finally, she made it to her destination: a farmstead on the furthest reaches of the town, tucked away from the civilization nearby. Leonore tugged on the reins to slow her horse who was more than grateful to be stopping. After hopping down and tying her to a fence post, she ran her hand up the creature’s neck and gave her an affectionate scratch. The mare huffed and turned her face away in defiance, but the woman only smiled; her mare may be mad for being worked so hard, but she knew she couldn’t stay grumpy for long when she got scratches.

“After this one we can take a longer break. I’ll see if I can find you something to snack on and then we’ll take it slower on our way back. You did amazing.” After another tender pat, she set off to make her delivery: a small sack of seeds that she’d untied from her saddle.

Everything went smoothly. She was given a few florens for her service then walked back to her mare. The owner of the farmstead gave her permission to water her horse, so she did just that and led her to a large trough for visitors’ steeds. The animal was appreciative and drank heavily, making Leonore sigh as she remembered she’d had nothing to eat or drink since she left.

“You know, you’re lucky. You can drink any old water and chew on some grass and you’re fine. I’d give my left hand for something to eat right now,” she idly said to her horse, not expecting an answer, but especially not from someone nearby.

“That can be arranged.”

A startled gasp flew from her lips and she turned abruptly, but a hand shot out and covered her mouth before she could utter a cry.

“ _Shhh sh sh._ We wouldn’t wanna let anyone know we’re here, now would we? Keep that pretty little mouth shut n’ we won’t feel the need to fill it with somethin’.” The voice belonged to a man - a dirty, armored one. Behind him stood a group of another six. She watched in fear as two of them began stalking their way to the farmhouse, two to the barn, and the rest to search the fields for any workers; they were there to ransack the place and she had the opportune timing of being there when they did.

“Now, while my boys go take care of the farm, how’s about you n’ I spend some quality time together?”

—

Ravens were a very intelligent species that Regis used for gathering information and sometimes communicating. As soon as Dettlaff had finished dressing in preparation to bring Leonore some food, one such bird was sent out to find her location. It came back quickly, meaning she wasn’t completely out of town.

“You should be able to find her riding to the furthest homestead to the northeast. It’s not terribly far - you’ll be able to make it quickly. Here’s her food,” Regis handed his companion the small bundle of cloth in which lay some meat, bread, a bit of cheese, and an apple, “and take some water just in case.”

Dettlaff nodded and picked up a small jug - the one he’d drank from the night prior, but it was refilled earlier that morning. 

“Anything else?”

“No, this should be fine. Now try to hurry. She might not be out there for long and she’s far enough away that you won’t have to worry about any prying eyes.”

“Thank you, Regis.”

“Think nothing of it. The part of me that’s a medic wants to make sure she doesn’t go hungry while all of the other parts wants you two to fall in love already.” His playful teasing was met with a soft glare then a roll of the eyes when he returned it with a cheeky grin. “Have fun out there.”

The dark-haired vampire didn’t bother to answer before setting out the back door. It was a beautiful day compared to the awful storm that had just passed over them; the sun was shining bright, the clouds were far off in the distance, and even the garden itself looked much greener now that it had been watered so thoroughly. He entertained the thought of bringing his sketchbook, but he’d already left it inside and wanted to leave before Leonore had a chance to move on to her next destination. Silently, he disappeared from view, using his vampiric abilities to allow him to cover ground much faster. Given a few minutes, he’d be able to catch up with her even if she was still riding out there.

—

This had to be the place, the vampire thought when he approached the secluded farm. Everything was quiet save for the horse that was tied up to the fence bordering the property. In fact, she seemed quite spooked, which told him that things were probably not as they seemed. When he approached the mare, it reared and cried, but he was able to hush it softly and bring it back down with the apple he’d brought for Leonore. It eyed him warily, but when he took a firm hold of the bridle and held the apple out for it to see, it took the offering eagerly and gave a soft snort. The horse was beautiful and white with a black face, mane, and rump. He could tell it was well cared for with how pristine its pale coat looked - most horses of this color that he saw were a dirty off-shade from lack of grooming. Tenderly, he ran his clawed hand through the mane and gave it a kind pat, but when he passed its saddle, he picked up on a familiar scent. It was one he knew intimately - this was Leonore’s horse.

Dettlaff looked about to see if perhaps she’d simply wandered off somewhere nearby for a bit while her horse rested, but she was nowhere to be found. As such, he closed his eyes and blocked out the sound of the horse’s loud chewing to see if he could hear her nearby. His sharp hearing picked up on voices, but only men.

 _“_ _Please sirs, take what ya want, but leave us our lives.”_

_“We were plannin’ on it. Takin’ what we want, that is. Now shut your gob ‘fore we stick a hot poker in it.”_

Dettlaff’s eyes shot open and he set out for the farmhouse, the food and water forgotten on the ground. He couldn’t hear Leonore, but he knew bandits when he heard them even without the obvious remarks. If she was still here, it meant she was in danger, and the thought alone made his blood  _boil_. The trek was short, but as he neared, he made sure to remain out of sight. Should the vagabonds be alerted to his presence, they could easily kill whomever they held prisoner. That Leonore could be already dead briefly crossed his mind, but he didn’t smell blood or death yet.

_Yet._

He quietly and cautiously peered in through a window, but he could only see an elderly man tied up and thrown to the ground by two young children. As much as he wanted to assist them, he  _had_  to find Leonore. They would be safest considering it was their property he was on - the woman was most likely in the right place at the wrong time and therefore a liability. Once again he closed his eyes and listened intently, this time focusing on every small, seemingly insignificant sound.

 _Birds overhead. The raven. More animals. Not the mare, but a cow. Sniffing. Shuffling. A whimper, but not of a dog. More sniffing, or is it sniffling? A moan. Pain._ **_Leonore._ **

In a cloud of fog, he disappeared again, already allowing himself to revert back to his vampiric form. His claws and fangs elongated as his face contorted into its beastly countenance. His incorporeal form slipped through the cracks in the barn’s wooden wall, then slid up into the loft. Out of sight, he took solid shape again. A man stood below him with the woman he sought tied up and in a heap on the ground. There were no signs of abuse on her from what he could see, but he’d inspect her for that once she was out of harm’s way.

“You’re a lucky little bitch, you know that? Any other day and I’d’ve ploughed you from dusk till dawn. Too bad our boss thinks you’re too pretty to soil yet, but once he’s had his first dibs, we get to share you between the rest of us.” Leonore didn’t respond for a gag in her mouth, but Dettlaff could hear her strangled sob. 

That did it -  _no one threatened what was_ ** _his._**

He didn’t give the man a chance to so much as take another breath before he once again dissolved into mist. It crept down the wooden beams and across the ground before both occupants of the barn took notice of the strange phenomenon.

“What the–”

 ** _Thump_**.

Wide hazel eyes watched in horror as the man’s head was detached from his body in a single fluid motion that she couldn’t see. Arterial spray caught her face that was already streaked with tears. When Dettlaff reemerged from the dark cloud of fog, his claws were stained red. The eyes that she had once loved so dearly were pale and ghastly compared to their former soft blue, but she stared silently in awe and fright nonetheless. The beast that appeared before her turned to face her, and it was then that she recognized him. The moth brooch, the familiar coat, the dark hair with streaks of grey - she knew him before he returned to his more human form. Were she able to speak, she’d have uttered his name, so instead he uttered hers.

“ _Leonore_."  He was quick to approach her and remove her bindings, and as soon as her hands were free she tore the filthy rag from her mouth then threw her arms around him. The sob that ripped from her throat made his stomach clench painfully, but he held her tightly to him regardless. His eyes closed again, this time to take her in - her body, the sound of her heartbeat, her scent. She was  _safe._

"Th-th-ank the go-gods you’re h-ere!!” Her words were broken by her own breathing as she hyperventilated from the force of her sobs. He responded by hushing her and rubbing her back to try to calm her.

“Hush, liefje. I am here.  _Breathe_.” Only for a brief moment did he release her, and it was only to look her over for injuries. In the process, he wiped the fresh blood from her face to the best of his ability. “Did they hurt you?  _If they hurt you–_ ”

“N-no, but they threatened it plenty. I’ve got a-a few scrapes from them pushing me to the ground, but I’m fine.” She still sniffled and breathed unevenly, but she was trying to regulate it. “The- the farmer. They have him. Dettlaff  _please_ , we m-ust do something.”

“Stay here. Remain hidden in the loft and do not move until I return.” He waited for her to nod before helping her up and guiding her up the ladder so she could hide in the upper storage. If there were any other bandits about, he would do what he could to keep them away from the barn. Satisfied that she would be safe enough while he was gone, he once again disappeared from sight. The last he saw of her before departing was the confused wonder on her tear stained face.

—

It was easy to remain hidden with his abilities, but he was caught with a dilemma. As much as he wanted to tear these thugs limb from limb, should he reveal himself as a vampire, it could only lead to more trouble. The last thing he wanted was to be run out of town by an angry mob, but even less so when he knew this would affect Leonore as well. As a result, he knew he had to do this without alerting anyone of his true nature. 

He couldn’t see anyone outside the farmhouse, but he knew there had to be more than just the three of them there. However, the hostages were in the most immediate danger, so he would take care of the two bandits inside and see if he couldn’t lure the rest to him. Every primal instinct in him was clawing at him from inside, but he had to fight those urges for once. There wasn’t time for a plan, so he instead unsheathed the dagger at his back and tried the rear entrance of the house to sneak in. The door was locked, but he bypassed it easily with a deft claw. Silently, he crept inside and made his way to the main entryway. The intruders had their backs to him.

It was a fatal mistake. 

Like a hot knife through butter, so too did his blade find its way through the side of the first man’s head. The brutality of the act helped make up for the pent up anger that made him want to shred them with teeth and claws. Before the body could land on the floor, the second thug turned and went wide-eyed at his companions corpse skewered by Dettlaff’s dagger. It made a sickening  _squelch_ as he pulled it free from the dead man’s skull, but he was slow and methodical about removing it - he wanted this to be a display. He wanted the other to  _scream_.

—

Sharp wails tore through the air a few short minutes after Dettlaff vanished. She knew there were seven in total, one of which he dispatched quickly in front of her and whose blood she was ensuring did not remain on her skin. There were two in the farmhouse from what she knew, but after the screaming, she watched from a hole in the wooden walls around her as the remaining four ran to the house from different parts of the property.

From what she could hear, it was over quickly.

When Dettlaff emerged from the farmhouse in his corporeal human form, he was wiping blood from a blade and sliding it into a sheath at his lower back. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, though she was so terror-stricken that she hadn’t noticed much of anything until she realized that it was he who had come to her aid. As soon as he began walking back to the barn, she scrambled down the ladder to meet him.

“Dettlaff!! Are you alright?!” Once again she threw her arms around him and he responded in kind. The relief he felt knowing she was mostly unharmed was earth-shattering.

“I am well. The farmer informed me of only seven, and they are gone.” She could’ve told him that too, but fear and adrenaline had caused that important fact to slip from her mind.

“You killed all of them..?” There was a hint of apprehension in her voice, and he almost felt hesitant to answer.

“Yes,” he replied firmly, and gauged her reaction. She seemed to sigh in relief.

“ _Good._ Those bastards got what was coming to them. What of the farmer and his family? Are they okay?”

“A few injuries, but only minor. I suggested they go to town and seek Regis if they need tending.”

“Thank you, Dettlaff. I don’t know how you knew, but you just saved our lives.” She buried her face in his neck affectionately, wanting to hold him as close as she possibly could. He didn’t want to let go of her neither, nor would he. With a slight shift, he lifted her into his arms with ease and began walking back to the fence post where she’d secured her mare.

Leonore remained quiet as she sought solace in his embrace. She was clearly still shaken, so he would give her all the time she needed to feel safe again - at least, so long as she allowed him to hold her. This was too close - had he not gotten there in time, he didn’t doubt she would have befallen a horrid fate. The anger that raged within him was only soothed by the sweet kisses she began pressing to his neck and jaw as he walked, but she ceased when he reached her horse, much to his chagrin. He only put her down so she could see to her steed.

“Oh,  _Lola!_  I’m so glad they didn’t hurt you!” When he let her down, she pressed her face to the horse’s neck. The creature was receptive to her affection and turned to press its forehead to hers, effectively bumping their heads together. Leonore gave out a joyful laugh as she gave it a scratch behind the ear. It nickered in delight.

Dettlaff was almost jealous.

“Dettlaff?”

“Hm?”

“What was it that I saw back there? In the barn, you appeared and disappeared out of nowhere, and for a moment you looked..  _different._ ”

“My natural form.”

“Your..? What, so you don’t always look like this?” She gestured to his everything.

“No. It is a separate form that I take to appear human.”

“So you usually look more.. erm…” she trailed off, unable to find the right word for it.

“Monstrous?”

“No, feral. Wild, even. I’ll never describe you as a monster, Dettlaff. Monsters are those who seek to hurt people without just cause. Those bandits were monsters, but you? You’re far better than that.” Her words meant a great deal to him, but before he could show her just how much, she turned to her horse and pat its rump.

“Anyway, we have to get going. I still have so much I have to do before I–”

“Wait.” The vampire stepped close and pulled her to him one more time. He didn’t want to let her go just yet, and he was even less inclined to do so after such a close call in regards to her safety. When he nuzzled her neck, she ran her hand through his hair. It made him want to purr contentedly.

“I have to finish my work, Dettlaff. I should be done before sundown and I’ll seek you out as soon as I return home, okay?”

“You could have  _died_ , Leonore. I’ll not let you go again.”

As much as she wanted to protest, she couldn’t help but sigh.

“But–”

“ _No,_ Leonore. Please, you should at least allow Regis to examine you."

"I’m  _fine._ ” She pulled herself away and frowned up at him, but his eyes were begging her to stay.

“Dettlaff,” she sighed his name like a mother would her child when tired of their antics, “I’ll only be gone a few more hours. Then I’m done. I need the money if I’m going to have food for the night.”

It was then that he remembered the small bundle of cloth he’d brought with food inside. He inwardly cursed himself - as soon as he’d heard the bandits, he dropped everything to go find her. After searching around a bit, he found the jug of water still intact near the mare’s hooves, but the cloth that once held her food looked a little worse for wear. It was damp like something had chewed on it, and it seemed the meat had been left ignored in the dirt while there was no trace of the bread or cheese. He sighed in defeat, but at least the horse had something to eat.

“I had brought you food, but dropped it when I found that you were in trouble. It seems your horse enjoyed it instead.”

“Really? You were trying to bring me food and ended up saving me instead.” Her soft smile reassured him that she was feeling a bit better after her ordeal despite everything - she had an inner strength that allowed her to recover quickly from such harrowing experiences. “Well hey, Lola deserved it more than I did with all of the hard work she’s done today. Thank you, Dettlaff. For  _everything._  I owe you my life.”

“You owe me nothing,” he was quick to say, but she shook her head.

“Please, I don’t mind being in your debt.”

“It will not be necessary.” He was very sure of that.

“And why is that?”

“Because I love you.”


	10. Chapter 10

_“I love you.”_

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop and think, but it felt natural to say it - like it had been on his tongue for a while now. Leonore stood and stared at him, making him wonder if maybe he’d been too hasty. Had she not already told him that she loved him? Surely she hadn’t changed her mind in the short time since then. The smile that broke forth on her face was slow and accompanied by a soft blush and what looked to be a tear. Impulsively, he reached for her and wiped the tear away with his thumb.

After nearly losing her the way he had, the realization that he couldn’t be without her hit him like a ton of bricks. Fear had sunk its claws into him so fiercely that he would have lost his mind to rage had he not been so determined to find her and keep her safe. When he did find her, it was like searching for his Rhena all over again. This time though, when he looked into Leonore’s eyes and saw the hope as she gazed upon his bestial form, a surge of possessiveness gripped him. He didn’t want to protect her, he  _needed_ to. She was so relieved to see him, a true relief that was so clear to read on her face. That she was so easy to read made it easy to open himself to her, and that was part of what made him finally come to terms with the fact that he truly did love her.

When she leaned into the hand that cupped her cheek, he couldn’t contain his feelings any longer. He swept her up into an embrace and kissed her long and hard, desperate to feel her love for him too. She returned the gesture in full, wrapping her arms about his shoulders and pressing close to him - as close as their physical forms could allow. They only parted to allow each other a chance to breathe, but he was so overcome with emotion that he continued to shower her face and neck in kisses. Her giggle graced his ears, and he delighted in it. If he could lay her out right here and take her, he would; instead, he once again scooped her up into his arms and once again nuzzled her affectionately.

“ _I love you_ ,” he murmured against her neck before pressing another kiss there.

“I love you too, Dettlaff.” Her grin was brighter than the sun. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that. What about what you said last night..? How you can’t love me like you had before.”

“I do not love you like I loved Rhena.” Before her smile could disappear, he kissed it back into place. “My love for you is different. Her love was selfish and fierce. It was a passion that threatened to burn us alive. But you, I feel.. I cannot describe it well. It is warm and fuzzy and leaves me breathless when you smile. I want to give you all I have because I know you will give me something in return. She took from me until I had nothing left to give, but you wish to share with me so we may be happy  _together._ ”

“You know I would do anything for you, right?” Inwardly, he sincerely hoped not, but the sentiment made his heart soar.

“And I, you.”

Her grin was back, and the look in her eyes was one of both love and desire. He shared it in kind, a smile finding its way to his usually stoic face. It was soft, but it conveyed what he wanted her to know.

“Come. I wish to bring you back to Dillingen. Your employer will have to find someone else to take your place for today.”

“Wait, what? Dettlaff, I told you–”

“If you need food, I will provide. I will provide for all of your needs. For now, let us return home so you may recover from your endeavor.”

“But I–”

“Stop. No more. If you’ll not come with me by choice, then I will convince you through other means.”

“Such as?” she asked, as though challenging him.

This time he silenced her with his kiss, one that left her dumb. His lips had parted hers to allow for his tongue to slip past along with a low growl, further deepening their embrace and tearing a moan from deep inside her. Even after he broke it, she felt weak and stupid, but the look in his eyes told her he knew  _exactly_ what he was doing - he looked almost playful, something Leonore had never seen in him before now.

“Any more objections?”

“Ehm..?”

“Good.”

With that, he gently hoisted her up onto the back of her mare with relative ease. She had to shift her skirt so she could sit comfortably, reminding her that she needed to stop wearing skirts when travelling out of town. Then, Dettlaff climbed up to sit behind her; the horse shifted a moment as she got used to the extra weight, but with a stroke of the mane, she settled back down. Leonore had to scoot forward as far as the saddle would allow, but she still ended up with her back flush against him. Neither of them would have had it any other way.

—

He could’ve made the trip himself in a matter minutes, but Dettlaff didn’t want to leave Leonore to travel alone - especially not if there were more thugs lurking about. Besides, holding her against him like this was worth the hour long trip at the speed they traveled - she wanted to have mercy on her horse and allow her to set a more leisurely pace for the first half of the return home.

“You know, this doesn’t usually happen,” she commented, breaking the silence as they watched the scenery pass slowly.

“Hm?”

“Bandits, I mean. I’ve delivered goods out here before and never had any troubles until today.”

“It is not something you can control nor anticipate. I am simply glad to have found you safe.” He punctuated his sentence by pressing his lips to her crown. There was no telling what he’d have done if she’d been hurt or killed.

“You do have impeccable timing,” she hummed approvingly. With his hands on the reins she settled with keeping one hand on the horn of the saddle and the other on his thigh. She’d told him it was for stability, but it was also an excuse to touch him as much as she could get away with. He definitely didn’t mind - not any more.

“Thank you again, Dettlaff. Not just for saving my life, but the farmer and his family too. I take it they know you’re a vampire too now?”

“No. I dispatched the thugs by other means.”

“With that dagger?” It was the first time she’d seen him wearing it, though she supposed he wouldn’t have a need for it if he was just strolling about town or staying home.

“Indeed. I did not wish to reveal myself before them, but you.. You deserved to know eventually.” The tone with which he spoke made him sound almost forlorn, so she gave his thigh a comforting squeeze.

“You thought it might scare me?”

“Did it not?”

“Well.. Yes and no. Sure, I was frightened at first, but I knew it was you as soon as you turned to face me. I’m glad I know what you look like in your vampire form. Now I won’t mistake you for someone that might actually mean me harm.”

Her words dug deep. It was only natural for her to be afraid, but that he actually brought her comfort even in that form pleased him greatly.

“I will never hurt you, liefje, no matter what form I take. This I promise.” He pressed another kiss, this time to her shoulder.

“Keep that up and I’ll have to exact my revenge on you as soon as we get back to town.”

“What do you mean..?” Had he done something to upset her?

“You kiss me, but from where I sit, I can’t kiss you back.”

“This bothers you..?”

“Immensely. Why should you get to have all of the fun? If you’re going to keep kissing me, then you’ll have to pay dearly when we get back.”

“And how would you make me pay?” She didn’t have to see him to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Oh you’ll see.”

—

As soon as they returned to Dillingen, Leonore managed to persuade Dettlaff to get them to her house so she may tie up her horse then see about getting someone to cover the rest of her deliveries. No amount of begging or bargaining would move him from his firm stance in regards to letting her finish her job - not even the promise of sweets. Her manipulative pout almost did it for him, but he managed to tear his gaze away from her and remain unmoving. As such, she bade him stay while she handle matters with her employer and she would return shortly. Initially, he’d wanted to go with her, but he decided he’d stay put at the very least.

This was the first time he’d been to her home, and he was mildly impressed considering she was neither rich nor of higher birth. At least, he was until he realized that she could afford such spacious living because she lived very humbly. There wasn’t much for furniture inside save for a sofa and side table in the foyer, a small cooking ensemble in the kitchen, and a bed and dresser in her room - there weren’t even any decorations to speak of. Most of the peasant homes here barely even had two rooms in the whole building, and he contemplated why she had so much space all to herself. It was very clean at the least, but he couldn’t help but feel like no one had lived there in years.

Just as he’d decided to sit and wait for her, the door opened and in she walked. She’d only been gone for about ten minutes, but he was all the more grateful for it.

“He wasn’t happy about it, but after telling him about how I nearly died, he seemed to feel a bit sorry for me. He gave me the rest of today to recuperate and even went so far as to allow me tomorrow as well.”

Outwardly, Dettlaff smiled, but inwardly he was practically cheering.

“This is good news. I wish to take care of you tonight if you will allow it.”

“Take care of me..? What do you mean?”

He stood from her settee and approached her slowly, almost looking like a cat on the prowl. When he took her by the waist and pulled her to him, she was more than compliant, already leaning in and up to accept the kiss he was offering. With her being so short compared to him, he had to stoop to kiss her properly, but it was worth it to feel her soft lips against his.

“I wish to help you relax,” he murmured against her lips once the kiss finally broke, “and make up for how coldly I treated you over the past few days.”

“You don’t need to make up for anything, Dettlaff. I understand why you behaved as you did.”

“My reasoning is no excuse for my deplorable actions.” The determination with which he spoke made her smile.

“So be it. Though, I still need to exact my revenge for all of your teasing on the way here.” There was a glint in his eye to match her coy grin.

“And what will you do?”

It was her turn to do to him as he’d done to her just prior to seating her on her horse. She gripped the top most buckles that fastened his coat and yanked him down. He could’ve easily resisted, but he wanted to see what sort of game she wished to play. Her mouth took his in a searing kiss, one that damn near made his toes curl. Snogging seemed to be something at which she excelled, for even he couldn’t fathom how she could caress him with her lips and tongue as she did.

Their mouths did not part, not even when she used the distraction to push him back until he hit a wall. Her lips were demanding, but they also gave in return. That he could find such pleasure in something so simple as a kiss left him staggering, but with his purchase against the wall, he was able to use the leverage in his favor. He grabbed her by the waist and pressed their bodies together as close as physically possible, but she wasn’t going to relent control. When she pressed her hips to his, it changed the tone entirely. What was originally a playful bid for dominance became hot, erotic,  _passionate_. Before he knew it, he was moaning into their embrace thanks to one of her hands being in his hair and the other pressing and rubbing against his groin. It was almost too much and forced him to take her by the shoulders and push her back as gently as he could muster. They were both breathless, but moreso he than she.

“S-stop. We mustn’t–”

“Mustn’t what?” Her voice was low and alluring, her words saying one thing but her tone saying  _shut up and take me._  However, he wasn’t sure whether this was something he was ready for. She may be prepared to hop into bed with him right then and there, but with this being the first time he makes love to her, he wanted it to be more than just horny rutting.

“I..” He was having a hard time finding his voice. “I wish to make this special - more meaningful.”

For a moment, she seemed confused and a little concerned, but when he expressed his desire, it was like the seductress she’d been mere seconds before vanished and was replaced with his sweet, kind Leonore. She fixed him with a warm smile.

“Dettlaff, any moment I spend with you is special. Honestly, you could take me in a hog wallow and I’d still think it perfect.”

“That would be revolting.” Why would she want to have sex in a mud hole?

“I don’t mean that literally. I simply mean you needn’t do or say anything to make this moment feel special. I appreciate the sentiment, I truly do, but I’d really enjoy it if we just let fate take things from here. If we end up in bed, then so be it. If not, then you can always try to make it more special next chance you get. For now, I’d like to forget about formalities and niceties and simply  _be._ ”

“But–”

“Ah, ah. No buts. Please?”

As apprehensive as she was to the prospect of laying with him the night before, now that he professed his feelings for her, she felt an overwhelming desire to give him everything she had. He too felt this need, but he didn’t want for her to think poorly of him for being so hasty. When he and Rhena had courted, they both leaped into bed very quickly. There was an undeniable attraction between them that made him want to let loose and be wild with her. Leonore, however, made him want to be the best man he could be for her, regardless of how badly he wanted to give in to his own desires.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to say to try to convince her otherwise, so she took advantage of his silence to kiss him again, but this time slowly and tenderly. She was taking her time with him now, and he appreciated it immensely. This was something he wanted to last forever. 

Her hands busied themselves with undoing the buckles holding his coat together while his had already started with the buttons on his shirt - even if he wanted to take her slowly, he still wanted to feel her skin against his. Together, they managed to get the most complicated of his clothing undone before he began kissing a trail from her mouth down to her neck. His teeth scraped against her skin as he nipped lightly - not hard enough to draw blood, but it did make her gasp and moan into his ear. He paid a lot of attention to her neck and throat with his lips and tongue and teeth. When he sucked softly at her pulse, she seemed like she was going to collapse in his arms.

As soon as her knees buckled, he swept her up and carried her to the bedroom. Her bed was too small to even allow for both of them to lay on it side by side, but one on top of the other would do just fine. He set her on the edge of the bed, and as soon as he settled beside her she climbed astride his lap and smashed her lips to his in another heated kiss. There was no resistance on his part this time. His hands flew to her hips to keep her steady atop him while hers held his shoulders firmly for balance. This kiss was nothing like their previous tender embraces - it was a passionate, fevered kiss that she poured all of her desire into. She made known how badly she wanted him with her lips and tongue.

How long had she been feeling like this, her needs unmet only to build to the point of bursting? As much as he wanted to try to think back to see if there were signs he might have missed, he couldn’t very well think when her mouth broke from his and latched onto the sensitive skin of his neck, kissing and nipping like it was sustenance to her hungry tongue.

His gasp when her teeth teased at his flesh was followed by a needy whine; he let his head fall to the side, offering himself to her with the thoughts of resistance banished from his mind. She did for him what he’d been doing to her only moments earlier, but this time a hand in his hair pulled deliciously, turning him into little more than a mess of moans and whimpers - what she didn’t know was that she had perhaps the most sensitive part of him at her mercy. The common tongue was lost on him - he couldn’t speak if he tried. When she grew tired of punishing the delicate skin of his neck, she tried to push his coat and blouse from his shoulders and he discarded them quickly and unceremoniously.

“See? You’re learning quickly,” she commented breathlessly as her hands now wandered the expanse of his chest, fingers combing through the short hair before following the trail down his torso to the hem of his pants. 

Her hands stopped and made him want to growl in defiance, but she had abandoned her path to pull at the ties keeping her own blouse closed then pushed the loose fabric from her shoulders to bare herself before him. If she ever wore a brazier, it wasn’t there, and this time he did growl, but with lust. It was the first time she’d heard him emit such a beastly sound, but he could smell the arousal on her like a cheap perfume. Despite his growing impatience, he managed to tear his eyes from her breasts to beg permission with his gaze.

“Go ahead. They’re all yours.”

With her blessing, he finally took to tending to her pleasure with his mouth, first placing hard kisses to her neck and chest before dragging his tongue across one of her pert nipples. He was but one man, but he was gifted with two hands, both of which moved from her hips to her chest and covered her plump breasts appreciatively. She moaned her approval, a hand returning to his hair as he dove in to enclose one of her rosy buds with his lips. Though he wanted nothing more than to lose himself to his base desires, he reined in control so as not to scare or harm her and hopefully make this moment last. His tongue and teeth were gentle against her sensitive flesh, but he would then suckle hard to draw out long cries that stirred his growing want into almost desperation. 

When he finally pulled his head from her fair bosom, he kissed her full on the lips then helped her finish removing her blouse. With the strength with which his kind was gifted, though she was very light to him regardless of that, he lifted her up off of his lap to lay her on her bed and hover just above her.

“ _Zeg me dat je me wilt,”_ he panted against her, his lips once again at her neck as he awaited her response, not realizing that he’d slipped into Nazairi in his lust-addled state.

“Dettlaff, I don’t understand you.” She too was breathless, but between her words, she gave him almost a squeak of pleasure each time he nipped at her. With a frustrated grunt, he lifted himself up only enough to lock eyes with her.

“Do you want me.” He didn’t ask, he  _demanded._

“What kind of a question is that?”

“I will not touch you if you do not answer.” His words were a bit slower as he struggled to think straight long enough to translate words in his head.

Leonore rolled her eyes. “Of course I want you.”

Without another word, he kissed her again, drawing her delighted moans into his mouth as his hand deftly removed her skirt. He pulled away again to tug it off of her, though he’d have much preferred to rip it off with how impatient he was.

Once the offending article was discarded, Dettlaff stood back to view his work. Her pale skin was rosy across her face, shoulders, and chest. Goosebumps erupted along her arms and legs with them being exposed to the cool air. She had bothered to wear undergarments, but the damp little scrap of cloth did little to hide her arousal from him. Overall, she was a work of art - a true masterpiece - but she was unfinished, and as her artist he would see to it that she be made complete by his hands.

Originally, he hoped to take his time with her to savor every curve and blemish that her body had to offer him, but he was too far gone to care about such niceties now. The way she teased and goaded him with her body and her moans were drudging up that deep desire and need for release that came with having no one for  _so long_. He was getting desperate.

Her underwear was discarded with the rest of her clothing, soon followed by what remained of his. He could feel her eyes appraise his body; the way she chewed her lower lip and unconsciously allowed her thighs to part for him told him all he needed to know. His body covered hers, both of them feeling warm to the touch with their burning desire. Almost instinctively, her legs wrapped about him, welcoming him to bypass formalities and sink himself into her with a smooth, fluid thrust.

Nothing in this world or any others could feel as good to him as this woman beneath him. Her gasp and sigh as he seated himself in her fully only served to make his heart flutter in his chest. For a moment he stilled, waiting for her to tell him that she was okay. The answer he received was the press of her hips into his, and so he finally moved against her. The pleasure he felt was inexplicable. There was a time when he thought he felt this with his past lover, but even she hadn’t made him feel so loved as the little beauty beneath him.

He watched her face while he moved inside her, noting each little change in her expression with each shift of pace and angle. When she cried out in her euphoria, he pressed harder, faster, evoking that cry again and again until he was certain she was so close to coming undone. The need he felt for her and her moans turned his desire into molten metal - searing hot and heavy in his loins as he strove to push her over the proverbial peak where lay her release.

Then, her back arched, pressing her chest into him like she could become one with him if she only tried. The tightening of her core around him made him groan, but he only paused briefly to allow her time to ride out her ecstasy before seeking his own pleasure next. His internal struggle to at least refrain from causing her discomfort was soon becoming external as he gripped the covers on either side of her head, his arms trembling and sharp nails puncturing holes into her bedding as he fought to keep from snapping like the monster he felt he truly was. He had to shut his eyes as he tempered each thrust of his hips, trying so desperately to refrain from causing his woman -  _his_ \- any harm.

Her soft voice, quavering under the intense pressure of her once more building pleasure, brought him out of his head.

“ _Please, Dettlaff.. T-take me.. Just let go._ ” His name on her lips broke something within him. With renewed vigor and a determination to bring her over the edge of glory once more, he allowed his control to slip further.

The power behind each push of his hips was nothing compared to his true capabilities, but he feared all of the resolve he had to protect her was lost in favor of setting a bruising pace in her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, making his fangs itch to sink into her, to mark her,  _claim her_. Instead, he dug his teeth into his palm, the taste of his own blood deterring him from trying to taste hers.

“ _Ahh, don’t you_ ** _dare_** ,  _hahh, hide your moans from me_ ,” Leonore groaned, her hand only removing itself from his shoulder to pull his own from his mouth. As soon as she had, a flurry of swears poured from his lips, all of which she couldn’t understand a syllable. He buried is face in her shoulder, his breath hot against her skin.

“ _Ik- **Ahhh**_ _, ik hou van jou._ ” His words were strained, his whole being quivering as he pushed against his release, pouring his strength and will into making himself last as long as he could.

His grunts and groans devolved into debauched moans and needy whimpers.

“ _M-mijn_   _liefje, mijn hart–_ ” He cut himself off with a low cry.

Their moans intermingled into a symphony of pleasure, his own release bringing about hers. Unable to keep it at bay any longer, he spilled himself inside her with a few final presses of his hips into hers.

She whimpered against him as he struggled to keep his weight off of her, but her bed wasn’t quite large enough to allow for both of them to lay on it together. Despite his body being temporarily sapped of energy - mostly thanks to his restraint - he gathered Leonore’s spent form into his arms and lifted her. It took minimal effort, but after their exertion, he wanted to move as little as possible. With his lover pressed firmly against him, he laid back down with her body draped across his. The movement caused his softening member to slip from her, but she made no indication of discomfort.

Both of them breathed heavily, though Dettlaff recovered much quicker than Leonore did. Soon he was gently running his clawed hand through her locks while she was content to lay and comb her fingers through the hair on his chest. Neither said anything for a while until she recovered enough to push herself up and gaze up at him lovingly.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. The way the sunlight shone in from her window onto her tangled hair and flushed face made his heart tighten.

“ _Amazing_.” She seemed to be dazed but pleased.

“Did I hurt you..?” His tone did little to mask his trepidation, but she shook her head, the blissful smile still on her face.

“Of course not. I would tell you if you had.”

That provided immense relief; he would have been incredibly hard on himself if he ever did anything to cause her pain.

“Good. I never wish to harm you.”

He smiled when she leaned upward to kiss him tenderly. Their kiss was short and sweet, but with her naked body draped across his, he could feel the familiar stirring in his groin. It didn’t go unnoticed, made apparent when Leonore shot him a coy smirk and ground her hips into his.

“Again? Is that a vampire trait, or do you just get excited easily?”

“ _Mmh_ , I have more stamina than mortals do, and I recover from most anything with relative ease.”

“So what you’re saying is that we can go all night long..?”

He paused before answering, but only because she effectively stunned him with her brazen reply. Well, if she truly wanted to keep going, who was he to stop? With how she was running her hands over his body, he wouldn’t even be able to stop either of them if he tried.

“If you think you are feeling well enough for it.” It would give him the chance to show her the true extent of his love and desire for her.

“Oh I am.” She would prove as much until dawn.


	11. Heartache

It was late into the night - or perhaps it was very early the next morning - before the lovers laid in pleasurable bliss, content with the extent to which they’d explored each other. Leonore’s head rested on her lover’s chest while her fingers tenderly stroked the coarse hair beginning to sprout from his jaw. She allowed her thumb to brush across his lips every so often, and each time she did, he would press a light kiss to it. Though he thoroughly enjoyed their time together, Dettlaff couldn’t help the feeling of remorse that began creeping up in him.

He was there to care for her,  _not_ rut into the next day.

Eventually the hand that gently pet him stopped moving, her breathing slowed, and her eyes fluttered closed. She was thoroughly spent, especially considering she’d only barely managed to keep up with her vampiric lover and his seemingly endless stamina. She fidgeted only once when he kissed the top of her head, but then snuggled into him as well as she could. The way she cuddled was like she was trying to almost completely consume him, but it pleased him to no end. Were her bed big enough to accommodate both of them, he’d have attempted to embrace her in kind.

This was perfect, he thought.  _She_ was perfect. She wasn’t Rhena, but he wouldn’t have her any other way. The never-ending praise, constant smiles, and perpetual kindness made his heart feel full again - he’d received some when he had Rhena, but never to this extent and never to the point where he almost had to convince her to  _stop_  lest she overwhelm him. Though, now that he thought about it, was Rhena’s affection ever truly genuine? He’d never know, but he sorely wished she’d have just told him when she had the chance. It would save him the torturous thoughts that still plagued him two years after he killed her. Then again, he  _did_  bring this upon himself.

Alone to his thoughts now that Leonore slumbered peacefully atop him, he began to feel the ever familiar aching in his chest that brought the ill twisting in his gut. Hatred for Syanna and what she did to him began welling to the surface, but who he hated most was  _himself._  He didn’t know what he’d done to drive his lover away, but whatever it was, he only had himself to blame; it was only about time before that same fatal flaw forced his current beloved to flee him too, was it not? The beast inside him wanted to pace and snarl and lash out, but when he looked down at the mess of brunette hair and the woman it belonged to splayed across his chest, it resorted to sulking and fuming instead. He dared not wake her up with his often violent temper, but his intrusive thoughts persisted.

Why had Syanna used him? Why the betrayal? Why the heartbreak? Why  _him?_  If all she wanted was an assassin, she could’ve had one of her brutes do it or found one for hire. Instead, she took his heart and cruelly toyed with it until she had effectively turned it black. She  _knew_ he would go to the ends of the earth for her - and still would though she lay in a crypt - so why would she give him such hope and love only to discard him then come back years later to take advantage of him? Pain unlike any he’d felt before choked him, but still he remained quiet in his mental torture.

The smell of blood hit the air, but Dettlaff recognized it as his own. He’d dug his claws into his palm deeply and could feel the crimson liquid oozing out to drip onto the bedding. Just as quickly as the wound was made, it stitched itself back together. What he wouldn’t give to feel a prolonged physical pain to counterbalance the emotional one. He could just as easily rip his own still-beating heart from his rib cage and crush it beneath his heel, but it would regenerate back in his chest where it belonged only moments later.

Unable to lie still any longer, he decided to use his vampiric abilities to his advantage. With a sigh, he let himself fade into his incorporeal form and slip from beneath his lover, allowing her to gently plop down onto the bed that was beneath them. She stirred only slightly, but quickly settled back into a restful sleep. Dettlaff, on the other hand, stood in the center of the room and gathered his clothing from the floor.

Now that he was up and about, he could survey all of the damage he’d done to her room. Feathers from her pillows were  _everywhere,_ including the clothing he now gathered. Her headboard was cracked and there were skid marks on the floor where the bed had been forcefully pushed to the side. Holes littered her bedding and now there was blood thanks to his hurting his own hand.

Despite the destruction, he did  **not** regret a single thing they had done that night. In fact, that particular memory would be burned into his mind. He was especially proud of himself for having not harmed Leonore save for a potential hickey or two, but it was hard to resist when presented with such delectable thighs. It was a trial trying to refrain from claiming her like his instincts roared for him to do, but if memory served, that very well could’ve been what pushed Rhena away. He was too bestial, too  _monstrous_ to be considered a conventional lover. He loved like an animal - he knew that much to be true. This fact was the very reason why he tried so hard to show restraint, for he greatly feared that he would drive Leonore to leave him too. Should that happen, he knew not what he’d do.

After dusting as much downy feathers out of his clothes as he could, he put them back on. Buttons and buckles fastened, he sat on the edge of the bed to slip on his boots. The shifting of weight on the bed made Leonore stir, her eyes ever so faintly opening as she tried to fight wakefulness.

“Dettlaff..?”

“Hush, liefje. Sleep.”

“Where’re you goin’..?”

“I am going out for some air and to speak with Regis. I will return shortly.”

“Please don’t go..” The pitiful way she whimpered for him made him hesitate in his decision to step out, but he wanted to clear his head before he did something he’d regret.

“I promise to return,” he said softly before kissing her forehead. She hummed in sleepy defiance. Then, he remembered what she had done for him when he’d woken from his nightmare and ran his claws through her matted hair. His fingertips gently rubbed at her scalp while he avoided scratching her with his nails, making her groan softly then close her eyes once more. Soon, she was fast asleep again, so he took the chance to finish putting on his boots and stand carefully from the bed so as not to wake her again.

With one last glance to make sure she still slept, he left.

—

Regis was tending to an ill patient when Dettlaff returned to his home, but they elected to simply ignore each other until the mortal was gone. It was simply how Dettlaff preferred it - it brought less attention to him when humans were around. It was odd that someone be there at this ungodly hour, but mortals were wont to demand services when it best suited them and them alone - something he learned the hard way. Since he was there for Regis, he went to his room to wait for the stranger to leave before speaking with his friend.

The room was as he left it when Leonore slept there last. Her scent still lingered in his sheets, so he opened the window to allow for some air. It wasn’t that the smell was repelling for him, but it didn’t make his internal pain hurt any less. He seated himself on the bed as he waited, but before he could begin his downward spiral into his own thoughts again, Regis stepped into the room.

“How did everything go? I didn’t expect you to be gone as long as you were, so when the raven told me of bandits on the farmstead, I daresay I began imagining the worst. How is Leonore faring? Was she unharmed?”

“She is well. A few scrapes and bruises, but she recovered quickly in regards to her emotional and mental state.”

“I take it you got there just in time then.” Dettlaff nodded in response, so Regis continued. “She’s home asleep? Did she at least get to eat the food you brought her?”

Ah.

Damn.

Dettlaff groaned and covered his face with a hand - he couldn’t believe that in all that time with her, he still forgot to get her some sort of sustenance.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Her horse ate it.”

“Well. That is.. unfortunate. Were you not so disinclined to lie, I’d say that is possibly the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. As is not the case, I sincerely hope the horse enjoyed it at the least.”

“She seemed pleased.”

“Leonore?”

“Lola.”

“I’ll assume that’s the horse.” There was a faint smile on Regis’ face, but judging by the way Dettlaff still rested his face in his hands, there was clearly something bothering him. “Is everything alright, my friend?”

“ _No,_ ” Dettlaff sighed, but he didn’t move so much as a fraction. Depression was weighing him down, making him feel heavier than even he could carry. “I needed air, so I left Leonore in her bed. I.. need to sort out my thoughts.”

Concern now found its way into Regis’ expression, and had he been wearing his satchel, he’d be clutching the strap. As such, his arms crossed as he leaned a shoulder against the door frame.

“What happened after the two of you left the farm? I’d like to know everything that transpired.”

“It..  _Mh.._  I dispatched the bandits without difficulty. The farmer and his children sustained minor injuries, but I instructed them to find you if need be.”

“I know that much. They came to see me earlier in the day, told me about how a dark stranger came and saved them without demanding so much as a thanks. When I informed them that you were a friend of mine, they all but threw themselves at my feet and begged me to thank you in their stead. I patched them up and sent them on their way, but not before the farmer saw fit to leave me a few extra coins for both my services and yours.”

“I do not want it.”

“I know, but they refused to take it with them, so I’ve set it aside for the time being. Now, what else happened? After the farm nearly being ransacked.”

Dettlaff was slow to answer, almost as though he was nearly embarrassed to divulge such information - after all, it was  _his_ private life that Regis was prying into, and it was  _not_ how he’d intended for his day to go. Really, he’d have been happy to simply spend the next few hours in her arms again, but to have been in, on, and around her had been a pleasant alteration to his plans.

“I told her I love her. Then we returned to her home and laid together until less than an hour ago.”

“It’s about damned time. I’m assuming you two went back to her house to have sex then?”

As loathe as he was to admit it aloud, Dettlaff nodded. He didn’t regret their intimate night together, but he wished he hadn’t been so rash. There was nothing tender about their mindless rutting; it was  _two years_ that he’d secluded himself, but he was so miserable in that entire time that he’d never really thought about his body’s sexual needs. The pent up frustration had burst forth as soon as Leonore’s lips touched his neck.

“I had a moment of weakness.”

“That moment lasted for nearly  _ten hours_ , Dettlaff. Is she still intact?”

“ _Yes_ , and I did  _not_ take her nonstop for that entire time, Regis.” He didn’t mean to snap, but he felt bad as it is. Even to him though, his excuses sounded terrible - like a child coming up with reasons for naughty behavior. “We.. did other things within that time. Talked, held each other, slept.”

“So sex and aftercare. Then more sex.” To say Regis was amused was an understatement. He was having too much fun teasing his companion like this, for he was elated to know that his dearest friend finally found someone to fill the holes in his heart.

With a growl, Dettlaff stood and turned to face the window so he didn’t have to face the other. The ruthless jesting grated on his already tender nerves, but Regis was the only one he could and would speak to about matters such as this. They’d both seen each other at their most vulnerable, and Regis had a wisdom that he valued deeply. Sensing only his companion’s growing unease, the mirth left Regis promptly.

“I still find myself thinking of Rhen-” Dettlaff paused to correct himself, “ _Syanna,_ when I am left to my thoughts. Now I am.. unsure of whether I acted too rashly. I cannot deny my feelings for Leonore, but Syanna still holds pieces of my heart. I both long for what once was and hate her  _so_ _ **strongly**_.” He all but snarled, his fists clenching at his sides. Anger was rising in him again, and he was prepared to leap out the window and take out his fury anywhere that wasn’t his friend’s home.

A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing to provide reassurance that he wasn’t alone to deal with his worries and frustrations.

“It’s not going to be overnight that you heal from such trials. You are perfectly justified in your feelings, though I do wish I could take that heartache from you and bear it myself. It pains me to see you suffering like this, especially when I once knew a time when you were almost  _happy._ Please, Dettlaff, let me know should there be anything I can do to help you.”

“I…” For a moment, Dettlaff was overcome with emotion. There was hurt, sadness, anger, hatred, and yet, he also felt the love and compassion of his beloved friend. Were he not also so empty inside, he might feel the faintest bit of the happiness he was once capable of. “I think I need to be alone.”

They stood silent momentarily before Regis sighed and gave Dettlaff’s shoulder another squeeze.

“So be it. What should I tell Leonore if she comes by?”

“I told her I would return to her, but should that not be the case, tell her I will be back soon. I simply need time to think.”

With that, he let himself fade, his body becoming nothing more than a fine mist. He needed to escape, and so he left for the Brokilon Forest where his kin resided.

—

With the dryads being a constant threat to any who entered the Brokilon, there were few who dared venture into its depths. After so many warning arrows, however, Dettlaff knew where their boundaries lay. His kin was permitted to cross it so long as they strayed from the dryads’ settlements and did not disrupt the natural balance of the forest. As such, they were limited in how much they could hunt, but with how much game there was, he doubted that would ever become an issue.

When he entered the forest and the domain of his pack, he was greeted with enthusiasm. The juveniles he’d spoken fondly of were among the first to approach, the three lamb-sized young ekimma bounding up to him with excited chittering. It was hard not to smile when they brushed against him with their soft, downy bodies and demanded his attention with playful nips.

"I missed you, as well,” he mumbled affectionately as he ran a hand through the fur of one. They weren’t sentient like the higher varieties, but they were still intelligent in their own respects. They understood him just as he understood them, though they were incapable of speech.

After petting one, the other two grew jealous quickly and either tried shoving their sibling out of the way to receive attention or nudging his hand to demand he move on to them. This was what he’d sought when leaving to sort out his thoughts. There was something soothing about being around his own kind, surrounded by those who were not bothered by the trivialities of mankind nor the devastation it brought in its wake. They lived simplistically, and he wished he were not so complex a being so he too could live without worries or cares.

How could humans think such beings to be monsters? In all of his experience, he’d never known them to attack unless their territory is encroached upon, and even then it was in self defense. The stories in which his kind were depicted as hungry, vicious creatures with only the capacity to kill always filled him with dread. Were mortals not so ignorant, so close-minded, they would see that there is so much  _more_ to them. Never had he thought himself a monster before Syanna’s betrayal, but what she made him do turned him into the very thing he swore not to be. Leonore was right, monsters killed without cause, and while he felt his reasons were justified at the time, they clearly were  _not_ once Syanna’s plot was revealed. He killed innocent people, some of which had shown him selfless kindness, and he laid waste to them like a monster truly would.

It was a fitting name for him now, he supposed. Dettlaff truly could be a Beast if he wanted to be, and he made that blatantly clear when he ordered the attack on Beauclair. Guilt still wracked him, but he did what he could to make up for his misdeeds by caring for those of his flock that survived.

He shed his coat so he could avoid having it torn, but once set aside, he gave the young ekimma a playful growl, provoking them into a game. They pounced on him, and though he could easily throw them off, he allowed them to overpower him at times then knock them off easily and nip right back. It amused him to no end how they tried to dominate him, but it also gave him a chance to teach them how to use their claws and teeth to their best advantage. Rarely did they learn, but he took the time to both lead and play. It was better than taking his anger out violently on the environment, for he got plenty of exercise and was content to have the chance away from polite society.

Dettlaff spent the better part of the morning letting loose and allowing his feral nature take him where it may. He hunted and cavorted, wrestled and nurtured; he did what a leader should when in command of a flock of beings the world would otherwise deem horrifying and dangerous. By dawn, his body was coated in a sheen of sweat and his remaining clothing was tattered and torn. His overcoat remained intact at least, which was all he could ask for, really.

All too soon, he knew he had to return to civilization to at least make good on his promise to Leonore. She probably wouldn’t even be awake by the time he got back, but he wanted to be there when she woke. He knew how it felt to wake to an empty bed when only a few hours prior someone had shared it with you.

—

Sleep evaded Leonore almost as soon as Dettlaff left. The warmth he had been sharing with her was gone, leaving her feeling cold and alone. Why had he left her..? Surely it wasn’t something she’d done? Regardless of how much she tried to rationalize everything, her heart still ached. He was gone for only a few hours, but it felt much longer to her. Rather than try to reclaim lost sleep, she sat in bed and sighed in the dark.

Creaking brought her head up from where it rested on her knees, her body curled up and legs to her chest while she waited to see if he’d really return. Booted feet across the wooden floor, nearly silent, brought him into her room. Dawn peaked in through her window, allowing her to see his blue eyes despite the darkness. Without a word, she stood and went to him, her arms enveloping him just as his automatically did her.

“Why are you awake?” his deep voice rumbled through her, and for some reason she felt it sounded like he’d recently been crying. Yet, when she looked up and met his gaze, there wasn’t any sign of tears.

“I waited for you. Something didn’t feel right and I.. I waited for you to come back.”

Heart clenching painfully, he closed his eyes and sighed.

“I am fine. You need your rest.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t take me for a fool, Dettlaff. I know when you’re hurting.”

Rather than give her an answer, he gently led her back to her bed. When he sat down, she crawled into his lap and hugged him close before he could even try to so much as remove his boots. Her tenderness was soothing to his worn heart, but now he had the growing suspicion that she was feeling his heartache. After all, he left her to wake alone, and though he’d expressed that he would return, it was hours before he came back. As such, his arms found their way around her again, but he had to grit his teeth against the rising lump in his throat.

“I apologize for having brought you concern. I needed to sort out my thoughts.”

“And have they been sorted?” she asked, her head not rising from his shoulder.

“No.” The admission almost broke his resolve, but he stayed strong. He had to - for her.

Her head rose from its resting place so she may press her forehead to his. The loving gesture was not one he felt he deserved, but he held her close despite his feelings.

“I’m here for you. No matter what happens, no matter what plagues you, I’m not going anywhere. I love you, no matter your weakness or sorrow. Please, do what you must to try to heal, but do not forget me. I wish to be your balm when your hurt still burns you so.”

For but a brief moment, he was grateful she’d closed her eyes. He couldn’t stand to let her see his silent tears. His face was buried into her shoulder, arms tightening almost painfully as he fought to stop the pathetic quivering in his chest. Tears spilled down her still naked skin, but she said nothing, did nothing besides hold him close.

“I love you, Leonore.”

“Hush, love. I know, and I love you too.”


	12. Painting

Days passed like a strangely pleasant dream - the kind that makes one wonder when the nightmare would rear up and shatter the tranquility. Every waking moment Dettlaff spent either with his flock or in the arms of his lover. The sudden change had Regis in a state of titters when he found out, so delighted was he that his dear friend was finding a place for himself that wasn’t secluded in a dark cavern in the mountains. When Dettlaff expressed his desire to stay with her, it was all the better for all three.

Regis was absolutely elated for his friend, and while Leonore was just as happy, it also meant they had to make her practically empty home a little more livable for more than one person. She expressed her desire to purchase more furniture - including a  **much**  larger bed - but Dettlaff convinced her that it wasn’t necessary. When his newfound lover departed for work, he took to his craft with renewed vigor. Never had Dettlaff been both so excited nor so anxious about his artwork, but now he had to earn Leonore’s approval for the furniture he planned to make himself. It was better this way, both so he could make everything a comfortable size for a man of his height and so he could hopefully receive his beloved’s praise. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t doing this solely for her admiration.

He’d had to ask her what she required for her house, but only because he wasn’t entirely certain what was and was not necessary in a typical home. Regis’ wasn’t much of a reference considering there were additional pieces of furniture in place of usual ones to accommodate for both his medical and cosmetic professions. The bed was a given, but had she not expressed her desire for an actual dining set, he’d have probably neglected to make one. After all, he ate in his room or with his pack, and Regis ate while he worked. On top of that, she was in need of a separate wardrobe to accommodate his clothing, but when he actually thought about it, a sudden realization hit him.

He was leaving.

_To live with Leonore_.

Even with Rhena, he’d only ever lived with his pack or with Regis. That both were so close was a great reassurance, but something akin to fear was rising up and he didn’t know how to calm it. Rather than dwell on what could be causing these tumultuous feelings, he busied himself with preparing to build the necessary furniture for what was to be his new home.

\---

The basement of Regis’ house was both where the distiller for his mandrake brew was kept and where Dettlaff saw fit to keep the tools of his trade. There was a little workbench where he would keep the toys and trinkets he worked on as well as various tools for larger projects. There wasn’t much any more after abandoning most of his belongings in Beauclair, but that no longer bothered him. With the death of Rhena, he almost never felt any desire to do much of anything any more, least of all anything that would make him  _happy_. That had begun to change since meeting Leonore, which was quite evident with his insistence that he provide for their home.

_Theirs_. He wasn’t sure why the thought almost overwhelmed him.

Dettlaff wiped away the dust from a stack of papers, all of which contained sketches of various items he’d repaired and, at times, small doodles that he just didn’t have the heart to toss. The books he’d purchased to mend were here, but being recent additions, they were still free of grime for the time being. Those he would try to work on later if he still needed something with which to distract him from his usual dark thoughts and repressed memories.

After a bit of sifting through the various carving instruments he kept, he found the ones he searched for beside a worn and torn teddy bear. Every tool he kept in here had been acquired after departing from Toussaint, but only because Regis wasn’t quite as gifted when it came to woodworking; as such, repairs were usually made by Dettlaff’s hand. Tools found, he turned to go back up the stairs leading out of the cellar, but his eye caught something lurking in a far corner.

It was a canvas, the last one he’d attempted to use upon settling in Dillingen. Someone had removed the sheet he kept over it, revealing the half-painted silhouette of his past lover. As loathe as he was to be reminded of her transgressions, he could never dispose of the damned thing. There was too much sentimentality that kept him from doing anything more than letting it sit in the basement and collect dust. Maybe one day he might get some new materials with which to finish it or maybe even the heart to finally rid himself of it, but not until he could look at it without his gut twisting horribly. So far, that had yet to happen.

With a shake of his head, Dettlaff returned above ground and ventured around the side of the building to where a pile of wood sat. It would take a while to have it all finished, but if he started with the bed, he could have the most important pieces done by nightfall. The day was warm and quiet, so he removed his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and set to work.

\---

Regis watched his companion from a window, though he wasn’t sure if Dettlaff knew whether he was being watched. It was always a treat to observe such an artist at work, and to see how skillfully the wood was inspected, cut, and carved reminded him of just how talented his friend was. Such a shame such talent went to waste those days, for Regis could remember many times in which new paintings would be proudly displayed upon finish and how happy Dettlaff would be with the results. The barber-surgeon really didn’t need another reason to curse Syanna’s name, but here it was. He hadn’t seen a new painting since the unfinished piece hidden in a dark corner of the cellar, and even then it was of the very woman that had become Dettlaff’s muse then crushed his heart.

A knock at the door distracted Regis from his thoughts momentarily, but now he wondered who would be there so unexpectedly. There were no appointments for that day, so that he would have a visitor was unusual. Upon opening the door, he couldn’t help but grin.

“You know, Dettlaff is actually outside at the moment. You can go around the side to find him,” Regis commented to a smiling Leonore, though her arms were full of parcels. “If you’d like, you can set those down in here before you go to see him.”

“Actually, I’m here to surprise him,” she whispered, knowing full well that if Dettlaff was anywhere nearby, he’d have no problem hearing her.

As soon as Regis stepped aside, she walked in to set the packages down on a table. To protect her little secret, he went to the window out which he could clearly see the other vampire and drew the curtains closed. Curious, he returned to Leonore to see what she’d brought.

“I take it these are for him?” he asked, to which she nodded. “May I ask what’s in them? I warn you, Dettlaff is incredibly receptive to gifts. You’ll not be able to keep him away from you if you plan on presenting these all at once.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” she shrugged, “but I told him I’d be getting these for him anyway. I don’t think he’s expecting it though, which is why it’s a surprise. I finished my deliveries especially quick today so I could bring them.”

“You still haven’t said what they are.”

“Oh! Sorry.” She blushed. “It’s painting supplies. Brushes, pigments, and I’ve got an easel here too, but he’d have to put it back together first. I also got about a dozen or so eggs so he can make his paints himself.” When Regis’ expression fell a fraction, she frowned in response. “What..? You don’t think he’ll like it?”

“Oh no, I think he’d adore anything you gave him, but I’m afraid he hasn’t touched a brush since we arrived here a few years back.”

“Oh, I know. He told me he’d lost his muse, but I thought that maybe if he actually had the supplies, when he does feel the desire to paint again, he actually can. And, if he decides he’d rather not for the time being, then you have eggs you can eat.”

This brought a smile back to his face. She was thoughtful, though a bit irresponsible with her funds. With how many small parcels were there, he didn’t doubt she had spent nearly a fortune on it all. There were about five packages there, but he didn’t see anything that could hold a small canvas.

“Did you happen to bring something on which he can paint..?”

She stopped and stared at him for a moment, face slowly getting ever redder. That answered his question quite effectively before she even had the chance to groan and smack herself in the forehead. The display made Regis snort.

“I’m such an idiot! I’m standing here all proud of myself and I forgot the damned thing he’s supposed to paint on in the first place!”

“Oh, I’m sure you two will figure something out. He’s still bound to be grateful that you got him anything in the first place.” He was still chuckling at how hilariously adorable she looked when angry. Her cheeks made her look like a grumpy chipmunk, but he wouldn’t say as much.

The sound of a door opening shook her from her internal punishment of herself, but Regis just stood and smiled as Dettlaff strode into the room, wood shavings stuck to some of his clothes as well as the hair of his forearms though he’d tried brushing most of it off. Upon seeing Leonore there, he paused.

“What are you doing here..? You were not to be back before dusk I thought.” The confusion written across his face was concealing his underlying concern. Why would she be back so soon if not for something important?

“Would you like some privacy? I’m sure you know where his room is by now,” suggested Regis, knowing full well just how emotional Dettlaff could get when given gifts. After all, he’d been the one to give his friend the first he’d ever received.

“Sure,” she responded briefly before gathering up the parcels and trotting off down the hall in which the room was. When Dettlaff hesitated, she poked her head around the corner. “Are you coming?? I’ve got something for you!”

Dettlaff exchanged looks with his friend, but when Regis shrugged and grinned, he decided to follow, bits of wood shavings leaving a small trail on the floor as he went.

\---

“You wanna close the door?” Leonore asked as Dettlaff walked in the bedroom, though her back was turned to him as she set up the packages on the covers of what was soon to be his old bed. He shut the door behind him, but eyed all of the parcels now set out with a sort of wonder.

“What is all of this?”

“It’s for you! Go ahead and open them. These ones here would probably be best first,” she gestured to the smaller two, “or you can save them for last. It’s up to you.” She was radiating excitement with how she bounced on the balls of her feet and smiled at him expectantly. It was effectively rubbing off on him, for he was smiling before he even knew what it was that lay within the parchment packaging.

Carefully, he used a claw to tear the paper that covered the first parcel. It was the smallest, but it was about a foot in length. As soon as the wrapping fell apart, he picked up the paint brushes that lay within like they were made of glass. The larger handles were polished and yet shaped in a way that they fit perfectly between his fingers while the thinner brushes were sturdy despite being perfect for the most intricate of details. Vair hair bristles tipped each brush; the mere thought of how smooth the lines would be with each stroke made him all too eager to test them.

“You.. bought these..?”

“Well, yes and no. Some things were easy enough to find out in nature, but yes, the brushes were purchased.” Leonore picked up a second parcel and held it out to him. “This one I was able to gather myself.”

This package was larger, and when he tenderly set aside the brushes to take it, he noticed it was lighter than it looked as well. He opened it much quicker this time, then lifted the wooden lid of the box that lay inside. There were several compartments inside - about ten in total. Each one held a different colored powder.

“Pigments. How did you find such a vibrant purple?”

“Wild indigo, dried and ground. That one was probably the hardest to find simply because purple is such a rare color. I hope it works well.”

Awed, he slowly closed the box and set it just beside the brushes, but he didn’t bother opening another gift. Rather, he took Leonore by the arms and pulled her to him, holding her against his chest in a crushing embrace. She did her best to return it, though her arms were pinned to her sides.

“ _Thank you_ , truly,” he murmured against her hair, voice thick with emotion. “You’ve no notion of how much this means to me.”

“You’re very welcome.” Her voice was a bit strained considering he was making it hard to breathe, but as soon as he heard it, he released her and apologized. “It’s fine, love. I told you I’d keep an eye out for more art supplies for you.”

“Yes, and you said you would make me aware if you found anything so I may procure it for myself. I did not think you would go so far as to acquire any of this, let alone for me.” He hugged her again, though this time he was more careful about it by winding his arms under hers. This allowed her to hold him in return.

“Alas, I forgot to grab a canvas for you. I even grabbed an easel, a palette, and some eggs for you to make the paints, but you’ve nothing to actually paint on..”

For a moment, he remembered the unfinished painting downstairs, but that wouldn’t do. No, he wanted nothing to do with the memory of his heartbreak - not when he wanted nothing more than to hold and love the woman in his arms now.

“You’ve spoiled me as it is, liefje. Think nothing of it.”

“Well you deserve to be spoiled! I’ve never felt so wanted nor appreciated as I have with you. This is just my way of thanking you for being, well,  _you_.”

Ah, if only she knew what she was doing to him. There was no way he could be more sentimental than he was in that moment. He almost wanted to cry. Too choked up to say anything, he instead buried his face in her shoulder and held her close, relishing in her smell and her touch when words utterly escaped him.

“Don’t you want to open the rest of them..? You may not have a canvas, but we can still do some painting I think.”

When he pulled back to look at her, she smirked back up at him. Her eyes were suggestive, but what she was getting at was lost on him.

“What would you suggest..?” he asked, which made Leonore’s smirk turn into a grin.

“You’ll see. Get something we can use to mix paint in. It’ll get a bit messy, soooo you  _might_ want to take off your clothes.”

She removed herself from his embrace and picked up the largest of the packages carefully. While she took to opening it, Dettlaff decided to do as she said. When he returned with a handful of small bowls (though Regis initially protested, he promised to clean them once finished), she was already pulling out some of the eggs.

“How many did you grab?”

“Eleven; one for each color, some water, and the egg whites. The colors can be mixed on the palette for other hues.” When he set them on his nightstand, she noticed that one did, in fact, already have water in it.

“Good. Give me the empty ones.” And so he did.

She was right about one thing: this was truly a messy affair. Initially, Dettlaff planned on being very  _careful_  with such a project, but she had little regard for cleanliness. He was grateful he’d shut the door again, for she was quick to remove her blouse when she accidentally spilled some egg white on it. Alluring as the sight was, he was far too amused by her childlike excitement with helping him make paints. Before long, they had both discarded most of their clothing and had nine bowls of paint with a prepared palette. Somehow, Dettlaff had managed to keep at least his trousers clean, but Leonore had to undress down to just her undergarments. Her pale skin ended up with flecks of paint in various places thanks to her own clumsiness.

“Liefje, how are you so careless..?” he asked as he wiped a bit of black from her cheek, but she responded by dipping a finger into the red and wiping a smear across her own chest.

“Because  _I’m_  your canvas.” He raised an eyebrow at her when she grabbed one of his new brushes and handed it to him.

“You.. You wish for me to paint  _on you_?” He was incredulous, but he took the brush and eyed her almost completely nude form with renewed interest.

“Why not? I feel bad for getting you all of this and then you not being able to use it. So, problem solved. I’m about as pale as a canvas, though admittedly I’m probably not as smooth..”

“You are perfect.” The words were automatic, like they were already on his tongue before he had to think of saying them. It effectively left her flustered. “But what would you have me paint..? This is not my preferred medium, but I will not deny that it is more exciting than the conventional means.”

“Well.. I already started it for you I guess.” There was a faint blush to her cheeks, her eyes avoiding his as she suddenly became bashful. “You um.. I mean, you may as well start with red I suppose..?”

With that as a starting point, Dettlaff dipped the brush into the vermilion paint on the palette, but on a whim mixed it with a bit of white. Since he had no real plan, he instead let his hand move of its own volition. When he touched the pink bristles to Leonore’s skin, he could see her visibly shiver.

“You are not uncomfortable, are you?” He only asked as a courtesy; his mind was already starting to wander as he envisioned what he wanted to create upon her skin. “You will have to lay here for a while and remain still.”

“I’m alright, take your time. This feels good, actually. Do you need me to remove my underwear?”

“Only if you do not wish for them to be accidentally painted.”

Briefly, she shifted so she could remove her last article of clothing, but as soon as she did, she laid herself out on the ground for him. Presented as she was, she looked beautiful in his eyes - then again, she was always beautiful to him, inside and out. She was so trusting of him, and it warmed his heart. His human canvas still once again, he once more ran the brush across her skin and watched as she closed her eyes and sighed. It seemed she truly was enjoying it, and with that reassurance in mind, he let himself paint freely.

* * *

After an hour, he’d only just barely finished her chest, the beginning of a sunset landscape spreading down from her collarbone. A few times he had to stop and get some clean water for his brush, and each time he would come back to her snoozing peacefully on the floor. As soon as the bristles touched her skin again, she’d hum and sigh in contentment. There were a few spots he found to be ticklish, so he made sure to be quick as possible so as to avoid accidentally smudging anything. This was far more engrossing than he’d initially thought, and so he was beginning to be invested in this particular piece.

It was with some difficulty that he managed to paint across the swell of her breasts, especially when her breathing kept hitching the closer he got to her nipples. As frustrating as it was as an artist, as a man and her lover, he wanted nothing more than to close his lips over each bud and lavish affection on her with his tongue. Part of him wondered if this was what she’d planned - to have him tease her with the brush then take her with his body. However, this was the first time in a long time that he actually wanted to paint and had an image in mind of what to create. Thus, he kept his mind off of the smell of her arousal and on the task at hand.

By the third hour, her torso was completed. It was fairly quick when compared to his previous works, but painting on skin didn’t allow for as much detail as he would like - not when it was a medium he was unused to. She kept fidgeting when he tickled her, so he had to be quick lest she make a mess of both of them.

He tried to limit how many colors he used initially, but the more he painted, the more ideas came to mind. Nostalgia was what inspired him, particularly the memories of Nazair as day gave way to night. The view of the setting sun behind Rhys-Rhun castle from across the Muredach was one he remembered fondly, especially when one was just high enough to view the garden that once flourished past the keep’s walls.  He could recall when that garden had been full of life before the castle had been abandoned and fallen into disrepair. Now, he viewed that very scene across the expanse of his lover’s torso which ended just past her navel.

“Have you finished..?” she asked, drawing his eyes to hers. “May I move now?”

“Yes. It is unfortunate that at some point you will need to wash it off. Remind me to recreate this on a true canvas. Admittedly, you made a fairly poor one.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“I’d like to see you do any better,” she retorted before dipping a finger in the blue paint and flicking it at him. “It doesn’t help that you painting my breasts made me incredibly horny.”

“I was thinking more on the moments in which your laughter shook the brush as I attempted intricate details, but I noticed your arousal as well.” There were specks of blue in the coarse hair on his chest now, and though he tried to wipe it off with his thumb, it was far more stubborn than it was on Leonore’s body. Now they had a mess to clean up, much to his chagrin. Cleaning was his least favorite part of making art. “Will you help me clean before washing yourself..?”

“Nope. I’ve got something much better in mind.”

“It would have nothing to do with you painting me, would it?” He cocked a brow at her as she sat up and looked down at herself.

“Have you ever tried finger painting?” When he shook his head, she grinned. “I’m certain I can get you to like it.”

His curiosity got the best of him; rather than begin tidying, he watched as she dipped her fingers into the blue again and trace them along his naked abdomen. The hair that trailed down his stomach textured it rather oddly from his perspective, but he enjoyed her touch even with cool paint being left in her finger’s wake. The thought of having to clean himself wasn’t a very comforting one, but he would accept it in favor of his lover’s hands on his body. This time when she went for more, she took a handful of the green and let it drip from her palm before pressing it to his chest. When her hand trailed upward toward his shoulder, the droplets of paint rolled down his body and made him shudder. The liquid was slow and cold and thick, but the sensation made him hum in approval knowing it was her hand that caused it.

“Remove your pants.” The simple command was obeyed immediately; Dettlaff stood so he may remove the offending article of clothing, though there were already flecks of paint splattered across them. That wasn’t his lover’s concern though.

Her hand was once again being dipped in paint, this time the purple. She didn’t even wait for him to finish pushing the waistband of his trousers past his hips. As soon as his semi-erect member was freed, she ran her tongue across the head and pressed her hand to his pelvis to allow the paint to drip down and around the base of his shaft. As alien as it felt, he couldn’t help the involuntary moan that slipped from his lips. This was perhaps one of the oddest activities he’d partaken in, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

For only a moment, she suckled at the slit that tipped his member, but just as his mouth fell open in another, more silent moan, she stood and claimed his mouth with hers. Purple was smeared up across his stomach and chest, blending now with the blue and green, before the hand bearing the paint cupped his cheek. The paint on his lover’s body was still wet, and so that too ended up coating his skin when she pressed herself flush against him, but he cared for nothing other than Leonore’s tender affections. He broke the kiss to finish removing the last of his clothing, but then immediately took her wrist and dragged her down to join him back on the floor.

When he took her breast in his palm, he ran his hand up to mirror her earlier actions, now cupping her cheek with a painted hand. She pulled back to smirk at him.

“Told you I could get you to enjoy it.”

She was silenced by his mouth on hers again, but there was no protesting on her part - not when he was further messing up his masterpiece on her chest with his groping. They were both grateful that he’d not painted any lower, else their joining would be fairly uncomfortable. When his hands moved from her chest to her hips, she helped guide his cock to her entrance and sank down onto him with a low, pleased groan.

They moved and moaned together, the paint only further smearing across their bodies whilst she rode him. Dettlaff tried to take her slowly, but with how her hips rotated against him, he was quickly losing composure. He ended up laying back completely so he could better thrust upward into her, delighting in how her eyes closed in ecstasy and breasts bounced in time with their pace. His hands covered her breasts once more, fingers pinching the painted buds tipping them to make her moan ever louder. How he adored the sounds she made, but he was also focused on the sight of the multitude of colors mixing on her skin. It was entrancing though the original product was ruined beyond recognition.

Without warning, Leonore reached for another paint - the charcoal black - and poured some of it across his chest. When she leaned down to kiss him again, it was pressed into his chest hair and spread between their bodies. When she sat back up again, she ran her hands through it and up to his neck. There was no pressure applied, but the sensation of her wet hands gripping his throat made him involuntarily whine.

“I.. I’m close, love.. F-fuck– Ah~!!” Her exclamation was followed by a final press of her hips and a drawn out cry, she seated herself fully on him as her orgasm washed over her. Once again he gripped her hips, but only so he could thrust into her a few more times then follow her climax soon after. When she collapsed on top of him, he immediately ran his hand across her back and traced soothing sunset-colored circles into the skin.

They lay in bliss as the paint dried and they came down from their pleasurable high. Neither one wanted to move, but they knew they eventually needed to clean the awful mess they’d made of each other and the room. It didn’t help that the paint that was caked onto their skin was beginning to itch and crack, but Dettlaff wasn’t about to allow his lover to go walking nude through the house with another man living there, no matter if that man happened to also be his closest friend. It was all the more reason he needed to finish their furniture, but this distraction had been a very welcome one. Eventually, Leonore removed herself from his body, his seed causing further mess for them as it spilled from between her thighs. She just snorted in dry amusement.

“At least it isn’t more paint.” Her lover rolled his eyes at her humor as he stood.

“Remain here and I will draw a bath for us, though we may need to take more than one..”

“Hey, it’s more time I get to spend with you and be completely naked at the same time. I think that’s a win for both of us.” Her light-heartedness in spite of all of the cleaning they had to do made it hard not to smile.

\---

Upon leaving the room, he made sure to close the door behind him to allow Leonore some privacy. As he made his way to the washroom, Regis spotted a multi-colored mass from the corner of his eye while he tended to dinner. The sight was, for lack of a better word, remarkable.

“Dettlaff?? What the hell happened to you?!” He dropped what he was doing to get a better look, unbothered by the other’s nudity and more concerned by the fact that it looked like a black mass was attempting to strangle him then ended up vomiting a rainbow down the front of him. Dettlaff grudgingly turned to face him.

“We..  _Mh_ , we got carried away.”

“ _Please_  tell me you at least plan on cleaning up whatever horror of an aftermath you left behind.” The look of both disgust and unease made it clear that Regis was displeased with the situation, but Dettlaff’s nod didn’t make him feel any better.

“We do, once we’ve finished bathing.”

“ _If_  you finish bathing. I’m going to assume she looks just as bad?” Regis asked, but only got another nod in response. It appalled him how this man had no shame sometimes. “Well, I’ll ask that you try not to make this a common occurrence until after you’ve moved out. I was planning on making your room into an examination room, but if the mess is as awful as I think it is, I suppose it’ll have to wait until you two finish cleaning up after yourselves.”

“It will be done, I assure you.” Dettlaff turned to go back to setting up a bath, but paused for a moment. “I also apologize for causing you such distress. I will do what I can to remedy the issue.”

“I’m certain you will, my friend. Now please, you smell of eggs and sex, and I would really like to forget that I’ve ever had the misfortune of encountering such a foul odor.” Before Dettlaff disappeared into the washroom, he called out as an afterthought. “And wash out the tub when you’re done!”

When he heard the door close, he shook his head and sighed then went back to preparing dinner. As much as he enjoyed having the other vampire staying with him - especially when it helped his heart heal - inwardly, Regis was grateful that such sexual escapades would be restricted to Leonore’s home instead of his own; he’d no doubt be finding paint in the spare room no matter how many times he scrubbed the floors now.


End file.
